Otherside Encounter
by animegus farmus
Summary: It just wasn't Officer Gulch's day...BONUS CHAPTER THE EIGHTH Officer Gulch learns something he already knew...
1. Otherside Encounter

_Disclaimer: When I successfully conquer the galaxy I shall own this, too (and make more Tin Man they shall). Until that time, I'm afraid I own nothing. Sigh._

_Author's Note: Totally unrelated, but has anyone noticed that all roads in the O.Z. seem to go through the fields of the Papay?_

* * *

...

Officer Gulch had to wonder how his day had gone so inexplicably wrong. The morning had started out in the perfectly unremarkable manner of the sleepy Kansas town: breakfast at the diner, patrolling the town, finding a place to park by the highway, watching DG speed by on her motorcycle...oh, right. Yeah, that would be reason right there.

Not that seeing DG speeding was anything new. There was a time when giving DG speeding tickets was a part of Officer Gulch's daily routine. Thing was, ever since that freak tornado almost a year back no one had seen hide nor hair of her or her family. The town had conducted an extensive search for the family before reluctantly deciding that they must have been killed in the storm. The memorial service was one of the largest ever held in the town, and Officer Gulch had been there, sitting in the front row. Those who knew of his long standing traffic violation feud with DG – which was everyone – had watched him with speculative sympathy.

Needless to say, seeing her that morning was so like seeing a ghost he sat there a minute in stunned silence before taking off in pursuit. Tires squealing, old accustomed imprecations being muttered under his breath, Officer Gulch settled into the old routine with something akin to relief. He'd never admit it, but he was so damned _happy_ to see her he forgot to turn on his siren.

DG, meanwhile, had either failed to notice him or was ignoring him as she'd always been wont to do. She just carried on her merry law-disabiding way, perhaps going a little faster than usual as she tore down the gravel road to the remains of her home. Executing a neat skidding stop, she hopped off the bike and raced into the standing portion of the house.

Officer Gulch was hot on her trail. There were questions he wanted answered. He wanted to know where her family had been this past year; he wanted to know why they'd never told anyone they were ok; he wanted to give her a ticket. Slamming the cruiser door, he hiked up his utility belt and strode purposely toward the house.

Unfortunately for Officer Gulch, while he might consider himself an officer of the law on a mission to protect the peace, to someone else he was a man with a gun in far too close proximity to the princess of the O.Z. This point was made by the revolver suddenly levelled at his head by the man who, as far Officer Gulch was concerned, had come out of nowhere. Sliding his eyes sideways, he caught sight of man he'd swear, if it weren't for the gun at his temple, was a sheriff straight out of a western. It was in that moment, standing on the half wrecked porch of DG's home, that Officer Gulch realized his day had gone straight to hell.

"Put the gun on the ground," the stranger growled.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" Officer Gulch tried reasoning. What had he walked into? Things like this didn't _happen_ in his town.

The sound of the hammer being drawn back rang ominously, "Try me," the man warned.

Officer Gulch unholstered his gun and dropped it.

"Kick it over there."

He complied.

"Now you are going to tell me who you are, what you are doing here, and who sent you. No lies, no tricks or I just take care of this little problem I suddenly have."

Swallowing hard, Officer Gulch looked down at his police uniform then back up to the stranger holding him at gun point. _Early to mid forties, 6' to 6'1", solid build, short blond hair, fedora, duster_, his mind catalogued, training kicking in. Oddly enough the man had an air that seemed to say cop. _Wants to know who sent me...wait_, "What?" he stuttered.

Fortunately for Officer Gulch, given the steely look that was forming in the stranger's face, DG chose this moment to reappear on the scene. Having successfully distracted Cain so that she could make a quick supply run that she most certainly did _not_ want him along for, DG's only intent upon leaving the house was to hide the evidence of her illicit trip. Sure that she had managed to pull the whole thing off undetected, the last thing she'd expected to find on the porch was the Tin Man holding her old nemesis at gunpoint.

"Cain, what are you doing?" she exclaimed, shocked.

"Waiting for answers," the Tin Man replied.

Poor Officer Gulch, completely lost, seized onto the familiar frustration that was DG's existence like a lifeline. "Damn it DG, you were speeding. Again," he bit out. Glancing warily at the man DG had referred to as Cain he continued, "I only came by to give her a ticket." _And find out where the hell she's been_, he added mentally, but instinct kept him from saying it out loud.

"Speeding," Cain stated flatly.

"Oh crap," muttered DG. Busted.

"And where were you that he saw you speeding, Princess?"

"I had some things I had to get," DG replied defensively.

"You went off _alone_," the Tin Man ground out.

"Oh come on, Cain! This is Kansas not the O.Z., no one's out to get me here. I was perfectly safe."

Fortunately for DG, Officer Gulch accidentally redirected the Cain's ire by trying to shift out of the gun site of the revolver. The cop did not consider himself to be a coward, and he reasoned even the bravest of men would have frozen under the glare levelled at him by the now thoroughly incensed Tin Man.

"Um, Cain, could you stop pointing your gun at Officer Gulch? It's really illegal, you know. He's a cop."

"A cop?" the Tin Man queried.

"Yeah, you know, like a Tin Man," she said with a bit of a smile.

Cain surveyed the policeman's uniform as if noticing it for the first time. Watching the cop carefully he slowly lowered his gun.

"And he was just here on official business?" he reaffirmed one last time.

"Yes. Giving me tickets is what Officer Gulch does; I don't know what he's been doing with himself these past few months."

"Um," the cop dared to interject, "may I have my gun back now?"

The Tin Man's jaw clenched, "Get inside the house, Kid."

"Oh for pity's sake, Cain, he's not going to hurt me!"

"DG," he growled ominously.

Throwing her hands in the air, DG accepted that the Tin Man was never going to rearm a stranger without getting her under cover first. Slamming the door behind her, she raced to the nearest window so she could watch the rest of the encounter.

Cain, meanwhile, was keeping his eye on the cop as he crossed the porch to retrieve the cop's side arm. Catching the man's eye he jerked his head in the direction of the police cruiser. Officer Gulch understood the implied instruction.

"It would be best if you forgot you ever saw us here," the Tin Man said, cop to cop, "We are leaving tonight and we won't be back again. She just wanted to pick up a few things to keep with her. There will be no second trip."

Incensed, the cop fired back, "Damn it, I thought she was dead! The whole town thought that tornado killed the entire family!"

"And it would be best," Cain replied, his voice taking on a hint of steel, "if they were to continue in that belief. It is a rather...neat explanation."

Closing the cruiser door on the cop, Cain popped the magazine out of the gun, removed the chambered round, and tossed each item separately into passenger seat.

As much as this man might scare him, Officer Gulch couldn't help throwing him an exasperated glance.

"When it comes to the princess' safety," Cain said, answering the unspoken comment, "there is no such thing as too paranoid."

Five minutes later, glancing back in the rear view mirror, Officer Gulch believed him. The man was standing, one hand resting on his gun, watching attentively as the cop drove away.

Once the police cruiser was out of sight Cain turned and walked into the house. DG was standing by one of the front windows, a mixture of guilt and amusement on her face. Mouth set in a firm line, the Tin Man stalked towards her.

"It was just a quick trip," she blurted as he drew near, "and, as you can see, I'm perfectly fine."

Click.

Glancing down at the noise, Dg was astonished to see one manacle of Officer Gulch's handcuffs had just been attached firmly to her right wrist. The other one, she noted, was attached to the Tin Man's left wrist. She looked back up to find that Cain was dangling the keys before her in his right hand.

"To ensure that you don't make any more of these 'little trips' for the duration of our stay," he explained, then tucked the keys into his pants pocket.

Well, that was interesting. DG's head tilted to the side as she contemplated this development. He would most certainly notice if she tried to sneak the keys off of him, given where he'd put them. On the other hand, she wasn't exactly opposed to the situation. In fact, she rather thought she'd like to make sure the state of things persisted. Hmm, it was becoming imperative to retrieve the keys and 'lose' them. Of course, there was always the magic option – Az had managed to pull the emerald from her pocket with merely a wave of the hand. Surely with a bit of effort...

Late that night Officer Gulch found himself deep into a bottle of scotch and muttering about troublesome princesses, paranoid sheriffs, and that damn DG. The girl was never going to stop speeding. Troublemaker. She always was, always will be. He'd have caught her, too, if it wasn't for that bloody 'Tin Man'. His fellow bar patrons looked at him pityingly, shook their heads, and bought him another round.


	2. Lawman

_Disclaimer: I don't own anything. Go ahead. Arrest me. If you send Officer Gulch I will probably just laugh at him, but if you send the Tin Man I'll go quietly._

_Author's Note: Officer Gulch has, perhaps, three seconds screen time and ten seconds mention, yet since I have written him I have grown oddly fond of the fellow._

* * *

...

Officer Gulch took a moment to appreciate the scene before him. There had been a time when this had been his greatest fantasy, though he'd long since given up on it coming true. Indeed, he'd been all but guaranteed it would never happen. Yet there it was, as if specifically designed to make his day: DG behind bars in the county jail.

To say he had been surprised to get the call was an understatement. The man who'd once held him up at gunpoint had assured him that they were leaving and not coming back. True, they were some hundred miles from the sleepy Kansas town, but Officer Gulch had had the impression the stranger had somewhere further away in mind when mentioning the trip. Still, there was DG and there wasn't a strange 'Tin Man' to be seen. He might as well enjoy the unexpected present.

"She was driving like a bat out of hell," the officer beside him was saying, "Wouldn't tell us anything and the only ID she had on her is not only expired but belongs to a girl whom the records indicate is presumed dead. Either she is who it says she is or we book her for identity theft. Only thing she would tell us is your name and she insisted we call you. Seems to think you know her."

Officer Gulch sighed, as much as he'd like to continue to bask in a dream come true the officer was looking at him expectantly. Not only that, but DG had just noticed his presence and her face lit up like he was her one hope and salvation. Too bad he had that whole 'protect and serve' instinct that had led him to become a cop in the first place. He missed the days when he could simply persecute the girl over her many, many speeding infractions. Unfortunately, he'd thought long and hard into their last encounter and come to some conclusions regarding what it all meant. The girl was deep into something; he didn't know what, but he recognized witness protection when he saw it.

"I know her," he said reluctantly, sighing again, "Better let me in to talk to her."

The local police had been so kind as to set up a table and a couple chairs in the cell for their comfort. Officer Gulch seated himself across from his old nemesis. They sat for a moment sizing each other up then he asked the first question that came to mind.

"Why on Earth did you have them call _me_?"

DG smiled ruefully, "You're the only person on this side that knows that I'm still alive."

He grunted in response. Should have thought of that, until that rather interesting day a few months ago he had, along with the entire town, thought DG and her family had been killed in a freak tornado. The gun happy, Wyatt Earp wannabe had made it clear that it would be best if everyone retained that belief. Officer Gulch hadn't followed those instructions precisely, but since he'd been roaring drunk at the time he'd let the news slip no one believed him. Frankly, if the townsfolk continued to insist on plying him with free booze he was liable to turn into an alcoholic.

"Besides," DG continued, "seeing as you are a cop I thought you might be useful."

"_Useful_!" he exclaimed indignantly.

"Oh come on, Gulch, you gotta get me out of here."

'_Gulch?'_ he thought. Some way to ask for a favour; even when he was a rookie no one had been cruel enough to call him by his last name alone.

"Look," he said, "you seem to forget there was a time I did my level best to get you right where you are. Honestly, I'm kind of enjoying the situation."

"No you look," she fired back, "you seem to have forgotten something, or rather someone. Either you get me out of here or we wait for Cain to do so under less peaceful circumstances."

Officer Gulch blanched, "So he is here somewhere."

"Yeah, I think so, I mean I'm pretty sure I managed to pull him along, too, but we got separated. Unfortunately I also brought a few Longcoats along for the ride. I had to get out of there fast; fortunately my bike was still at the farm - makes for a great getaway vehicle."

He almost understood all that. That the motorbike was still at the abandoned farmhouse was no mystery to Officer Gulch. While the town believed that the family was dead, without bodies they still had to wait seven years to legally declare it so. Until then neither the farm nor their possessions could be disposed of. Officer Gulch had, especially since recent revelations, been doing his darnedest to make sure the property remained intact.

"How about you start at the beginning and explain what exactly is going on," he said at last.

DG studied him a moment, as if trying to determine what she could – or should – tell him.

"We were attacked," she said finally, "we were ambushed by the...these people who have been after me since I...left a year and a half ago."

"These 'Longcoats'" he queried. He wondered if it was a gang, and how DG had gotten mixed up with them. She'd never seemed the type.

"Yes," she replied, "we got cut off from help. I tried, well managed, to make an escape route but..."

"But it separated you from your bodyguard and brought a bunch of your assailants with you," he finished for her.

"He's going to _kill_ me," she groaned.

Officer Gulch had no trouble recognizing the particular _he_ she was referring to, nor did he waste any time worrying she might be serious. The one time he'd met the man it had been made very clear that Cain's one and only concern was the continued good health and safety of DG. He had no doubt the man would blast his way through any obstacle that had a mind to inhibit that particular goal. That thought in mind, the cop let his gaze roam over the half dozen officers currently occupying the building.

Reading his gaze correctly, DG replied to his thoughts, "You see what I mean? You _have_ to get me out of here or he's coming in after me. He knows now that you guys are cops so he'll try not to use lethal force, but he's going to be kind of..._upset_ when he gets here. If they try to stop him he's not going to hesitate to do whatever he thinks necessary to get me out of here safely."

Logically speaking, it seemed unlikely to Officer Gulch that a lone gunman could shoot his way through six, no seven, armed police officers to mount a jailbreak. On the other hand, he'd met the man in question and instinct said this Cain would cut a swath through them if they made it necessary.

"You think he knows where you are?" he asked with sudden urgency.

"No, but he'll find me. Can't explain it, but it's like he's got this sixth sense. Extra-DG-Perception Glitch calls it. If I didn't know better I'd think I had a GPS system implanted somewhere inside me. It's only a matter of time until he gets here and then..."

She didn't need to finish the sentence, as if in answer to her words Officer Gulch's attention was caught by the ringing of the phone.

"Hey Ed," the cop at the phone yelled after a moment, "get down to the local gun shop will you. Seems some guy who thinks he's Wyatt Earp just robbed the store at gunpoint. Took them for half their stock of rifles and hand guns, he says."

"Great," DG muttered, "now he thinks he's Rambo."

"And Ed," the cop continued, "take back up and stay sharp, the shopkeeper says the guy seemed a bit frantic."

Officer Gulch's swallowed and said hastily, "Your guy's in the system, right? Witness protection handler?"

DG met his gaze, eyes wide, thinking quickly. "Yes," she said, "something like that. They have to let me go, right?"

"Give me a minute. What's his first name?"

"Wyatt. His name is Wyatt Cain."

_'Oh for pity's sake,_' Officer Gulch thought, exasperated, '_the Wyatt Earp wannabe's name actually is Wyatt freaking Cain?'_ Shaking off the thought, remembering the urgency, the cop all but bolted out of the cell.

"Constable," he said, slightly breathless, "could you do something for me? Look up the name Wyatt Cain in the system for me, Witness Protection in particular."

The cop looked at him oddly but complied. Officer Gulch could almost swear he saw DG's hand glowing out of the corner of his eye but put it down to stress.

"Alright, ok, you're right, here he is. Holy shit, you're kidding. A Witness Protection handler, I mean there's not much information, anything more requires a clearance level I haven't even seen before. You saying _she's_ one of this fellow's charges?"

"That's exactly what I'm saying. She is who she says she is, but that doesn't leave this office. As far as the world's concerned she's dead, and I need to get to get her back to her handler _right now_."

"Easy buddy, I can't just let her out like that, there's channels..."

"Look Constable," Gulch interrupted, "this is way more serious and _urgent_ than you realize. Something big went down tonight and she needs to get back to her handler _yesterday_. If you're worried about paperwork, well as far as the paperwork is concerned she was never here, you got me?"

Eyes wide, the cop stuttered back, "Y-yes, sir."

Young fellow, easy to intimidate, Officer Gulch noted with relief.

"Good, we'll be going then," he said then wheeled around to collect DG.

DG stumbled as she tried to rise. Lending her a supporting arm, Gulch noted that she was looking exhausted, drained even. As if...well, as if she'd fought through an ambush, fled halfway across Kansas only to get locked up for hours on end.

"I'm fine, jusht a little tired," she slurred slightly.

"Come, let's get you out of here and back to your gun happy friend."

This, however, turned out to be easier said than done. DG seemed to grow inexplicably more unstable as the minutes passed. By the time they got out the door of the police station DG was stumbling so badly that the policeman had to keep an arm around her help support her weight. Her few utterances were getting so badly slurred that he was having trouble understanding her. If he didn't know better Officer Gulch would have sworn she was drunk.

"Nicesh night. Thankssh a milyon," she uttered, "Yur not shuch an asho' affer all."

"Right, come on, my cruiser's over there. We'll worry about your bike later."

Unfortunately for Officer Gulch, as he had once learned, sometimes officer of the law on a mission to protect and serve gets misinterpreted. He didn't have time to react when a large form suddenly loomed out of a dark alley and a crushing right cold clocked him on the jaw. He had the briefest sense, as he fell like a sack of cement, of DG being wrenched out from under his arm. Darkness swam before his eyes a moment before the – rather familiar – sound of a hammer being drawn back brought him back to his senses. It was better than a splash of cold water for the task.

Looking up while cradling his jaw in one hand, he was not surprised to see the gun happy stranger he remembered so well. He had DG tucked protectively under one arm, held slightly behind him, while the other hand levelled the revolver Officer Gulch was unlikely to ever forget with deadly intent. The man, he noted faintly, was looking frankly murderous. Well, she said he'd be upset.

Fortunately for the much abused officer, however, as in their last encounter DG came to his rescue.

"Cain!" she squealed wrapping her arms around him drunkenly, "Yush found me." Blinking owlishly she had a sudden thought, "Why you hit Gulsch?" Looking down at the man in question she asked, as if forgetting her previous question, "Wha' oo doin' on the groun', Gulsch?"

Wincing at her butchering of his name – and not at all at the pain in his jaw – Officer _Gulch_ was relieved to see the Tin Man had apparently recognized him and holstered his weapon. In fact he seemed near to forgetting the cop's presence and was looking at DG in alarm.

"What happened to you, Princess?" he demanded.

"Oh nottin' musch. Longcoatsh chashing me. Shpeeding ticketsh. Offisher Gulsch. The ushual."

Cain glanced sharply at the policeman. "How long has she been like this?" he demanded.

"It started a few minutes ago, just as I was getting us out of there, and it got worse rapidly," Gulch replied.

The Tin Man's eyes narrowed, "You used your light to get you out of there didn't you, Princess."

"Jusht a wittle bi', no' musch," she slurred back.

"Damn it DG!" Cain growled, a little anger making it past the rampant concern, "After the ambush and the travel storm you should have known better than trying to pull off anything more."

"You know what's wrong with her?" asked Officer Gulch, picking himself up off the ground.

"She's drained. The travel storm alone could a have done it given her less than perfect technique, but she also used magic against the Longcoats and to do whatever it was she did in there," he said, nodding toward the police station. "I've got to get her sitting down," he continued, glancing about frantically for a safe location. The man looked almost...panicked.

'_Well, most of that was pretty much incomprehensible'_, thought Gulch. "Here, my cruiser is just up the street. We can get her sat down in there and take her to the hospital if need be," he offered helpfully.

The Tin Man didn't hesitate, just scooped up DG and started trotting in the direction the cop pointed. Running to keep up, Officer Gulch reached the cruiser just ahead of the man and got the back door open. Cain set DG down sideways on the seat where she drooped against the headrest, clearly worse than before.

"Hey Kid, come on, Kid, open your eyes. You gotta stay awake," the Tin Man commanded urgently, kneeling in front of her.

DG's eyes opened heavily then drifted closed again.

"DG! Come on, stay with me," Cain exclaimed shaking her frantically, "Don't you do this. Don't you dare!"

Watching them Officer Gulch found himself swallowing a lump in his throat. He'd never seen a man looked so scared in his life; he almost looked like he was going to cry.

"Is there anything we can do?" he asked.

Not taking his eyes of the girl the man replied, "I don't know. Normally I'd take her to Azkadellia or Tutor. They'd be able to give her a boost until her system could recover, but I can't get her to them and they don't know where we are to get to us. Or even that they need to get to us."

Cain spared one hopeless glance up at the cop before returning his full attention back to DG. Brushing a stray strand of hair from her face he whispered, "I've never seen her so drained before."

And deep in the recesses of Officer Gulch's brain, two thoughts collided. Acting on instinct the cop dived into the cruiser for his emergency med kit. Rifling through it quickly, he re-emerged and reached for DG.

The Tin Man snarled and almost snapped his wrist off.

"Listen buddy!" he bit out in response, "I'm trying to help."

Cain hesitated then backed off reluctantly.

Grabbing her hand, Gulch rammed the needle of the blood glucose meter into a finger. _Holy shit_, he thought when he saw the reading. He'd never seen a reading that low. She ought to be comatose or dead. Diving back into the cruiser he snatched up the instaglucose.

"Give her that, now!" he shouted to the Tin Man.

Cain didn't stop to question him. He ripped the top off the tube, forced her jaw open and all but rammed the contents down her throat.

DG choked, swallowed then went still.

The Tin Man had a white-knuckled grip on her shoulders and Officer Gulch was pretty sure he wasn't breathing. They waited one long moment, then another. The cop was sure the other man's shoulders were beginning to shake then...

DG eyelashes fluttered then opened, "Cain?" she said groggily.

All the air whooshed out of the big man's lungs and he threw himself forward to gather her into a crushing hug. He spent a few moments gasping for breath before he finally managed to get enough command of himself to speak.

"Don't you ever do that to me again. You hear me, Kid? Never again," he rasped out.

"Deal," she replied, resting her head against his shoulder.

Officer Gulch was feeling decidedly like a third wheel. He waited a few minutes but when it became clear that the Tin Man seemed content to sit there hugging DG in the street for the rest of time the cop decided to intervene. He cleared his throat. Twice.

_"Thank you_," Cain said, finally looking up.

"Yes, well, that's nice and all," Officer Gulch remarked drily, "but we need to get some food into DG. I don't know anything about this 'magical drain' and what not but whatever it is it crashed her blood sugar like nothing I've seen."

Nodding sharply, the Tin Man gently released DG and straightened so that he could toss a bag the policeman hadn't even noticed him carrying into the back seat. It made a heavy clanking sound as it landed. Cain then scooped up DG once more and slid into the cruiser with her.

Blinking at how fast the man moved in all things concerning DG's safety, Officer Gulch closed the door on them then hopped into the driver's seat. Stopping at the first fast food joint he could find, he got DG a double cheese burger, supersized fries, and the biggest dang soda known to man.

Handing the bounty over he asked, "Where to?"

The Tin Man deliberated for a moment then said, "Take us to the farm house. It's the first place her family will think to look for us on this side. If they don't, well, it's a safe enough place to hide out while DG rests and recuperates. Once she's back up to full strength she can summon up a travel storm to get us back." It was evident from the thin line his lips made that Cain didn't particularly like that last idea.

"The farm it is," Officer Gulch replied. He did wonder briefly why they weren't taking DG to a hospital, but he reasoned that they wouldn't really know how to deal with magic drains either. Besides she seemed to be stabilizing and he shuddered to think of the man's likely reaction to the hospital staff. Half of what the man said made no sense anyhow so he let it slide; pick your battles.

For the most part it was a quiet trip back. DG was worn out and the cop figured the Tin Man wasn't much of a talker in the first place. He recalled, during his frequent glances in the review mirror, that this had been another fantasy of his: DG locked in the back seat of his cruiser. Shame he couldn't really enjoy it, what with her near brush with death and all. The Tin Man was currently insisting that she finish her meal. She was insisting she was full. Given that the food had made a marked improvement in the girl he figured Cain would win. The man was nothing if not stubborn in matters of her health.

Click.

The unexpected noise drew Officer Gulch's attention to the back seat once more. DG was studying the handcuff bracelet currently fastened around her right wrist. The other bracelet, the cop noted, was around Cain's left wrist.

"Do you have any idea how hard it was to explain what happened to those?" the policeman demanded, aggrieved.

"It keeps her from running off on her own," the Tin Man replied, unrepentant.

Glancing at DG Gulch expected her to look angry or indignant; instead he was surprised to see she was smiling mischievously. Cain noticed this as well, and with a disgruntled look he tied the keys to the chain of his pocket watch before glaring back at her. DG just smiled innocently. The cop didn't know what the man was trying to accomplish with this move but he had a feeling that it would fail.

Dropping them off at the farm house, the policeman was looking forward to getting home to bed. He watched as DG protested weakly before allowing the Tin Man to scoop her up and carry her in to remains of the farm house. He wondered if Cain would shoot him if he showed up tomorrow to check on them. They might be gone by then, he reasoned, and though Cain had said once they left they wouldn't be back he didn't say it with any conviction. He'd merely looked at DG and sighed.

But, hey, crisis averted, Officer Gulch to the rescue, saved the day and all that. He could feel good about himself and go home to bed, right?

Much later that night, having had the stupid impulse to check his cruiser over before turning in, Officer Gulch sat with his head in his hands trying to prevent the oncoming headache. How exactly was he supposed to explain what happened to his glucose monitor and strips? Actually that one was pretty easy in comparison to the large gym bag full of stolen firearms. Of course, just as he thought that was as bad as it could get, two thoughts had collided and he recalled that DG had been concerned about some 'Longcoats' following her. Cain, on the other hand, hadn't seemed the least bit worried, at least not about that. Which led Gulch to believe that, quite possibly, the Tin Man had already taken care of that particular problem...where were those blasted free drinks when somebody needed them?


	3. The Reluctant Slipper

_Disclaimer: What can I say about not owning Tin Man besides saying I don't own this. If only, if only – though I'd settle for the Tin Man himself, I'm not greedy._

_Author's Note: Here he is Ladies and Gentlemen, back despite extreme protest (his own) iiiiiit's Officer Gulch._

* * *

...

Officer Gulch often wondered how he found himself in these situations. Actually, he didn't wonder so much as know: it was all DG's fault. DG the troublemaker, DG the absent minded waitress, DG the speeder, DG the source of mysterious circumstance, DG the owner of the violent, paranoid, gun happy, scary 'Tin Man'. And every time, every single time someone assured him that she was out of his life and gone forever, there she was again, dragging even more trouble behind her.

Take the last time she showed up, for instance. Under the circumstances he hadn't really minded bailing her out of jail – the circumstances being if he didn't Mr. Wyatt Cain would be coming for her himself, likely wielding firearms with extreme prejudice. The fist to the jaw he had forgiven as one must, misunderstandings being what they were, and he had more than happy to play his part in saving DG's life. Not only was it his duty but it also made the 'Tin Man' less inclined to shoot him in the future. The stolen medical supplies had been a minor inconvenience to explain, and the stolen firearms they'd left in the back of his cruiser had only turned out to be an annoyance.

The week they'd spent on the farm while DG recuperated had been another matter altogether. Not only had Cain 'borrowed' Farmer Spencer's horse and tack for the duration but he had also taken to hunting without regard to property lines. And what exactly was Officer Gulch supposed to do about the reports of an armed gunman at large? While he knew the man had no intention to hurt anyone, he also knew Cain would shoot on sight anyone he thought liable to be a threat to DG. In the end Gulch had been forced to deliver groceries for them just to keep the damn 'Tin Man' out of the woods. Not to mention he also had to figure out how he happened to 'find' Spencer's horse and return it to him.

Oh and then there had been the six bodies the gun happy menace had left in his wake in his quest to find DG in the first place. To make it even better, the bodies were only discovered _after_ the two of them had once more disappeared off to goodness knows where. How exactly was he supposed to explain those? Officer Gulch didn't know how things were done down at Witness Protection but leaving a mess like this for another agency to clean up was just plain rude. Of course, when he had tried to pull Cain's record to complain he had discovered it had quite mysteriously disappeared from the system, leaving him with some rather uncomfortable thoughts regarding the CIA and espionage.

Naturally, the past few weeks had been an irregular hell and Officer Gulch had been finding himself spending a great deal of time muttering over his seemingly inexhaustible supply of free booze. DG and Wyatt I'm-Gonna-Shoot-You Cain were his favourite topics and, aggravatingly enough, the reason for the free alcohol. The entire town was under the impression that DG and family had died in a freak tornado over a year and a half ago, so when he'd shown up at the bar all those months ago complaining about DG's first reappearance they'd drawn their own conclusions. Apparently they'd decided he'd been secretly and desperately in love with DG all this time and was now suffering from a broken heart. His chief had even offered to put him on compassionate leave. Gulch had rejected it, profanely, not that that was stopping anyone.

So it really was no surprise when DG went speeding past him on the highway out of the blue one day that he wrenched the wheel around in a tire burning U-turn and took off in pursuit. This time, _this time_ he was giving her a ticket. A big one. And then he was going to demand she tell him where the 'Tin Man' could be located. He was going to find the man and shoot him, providing Cain didn't see him first. It was a good plan and he liked it, which is why the sudden tornado was such an unhappy surprise.

Three hours later he was still sitting in his cruiser, hands in a white-knuckled grip on the steering wheel, staring out the windshield at lush green forest, double suns, and a land that definitely wasn't Kansas. Then a Little Person dressed up as a Thanksgiving turkey walked by the front of the vehicle. Officer Gulch blinked.

The oddly dressed man obviously thought the police cruiser worth investigating and strode purposely over to tap on the glass.

Officer Gulch rolled the window down.

Seeming rather startled by his appearance, once the tinted glass was out of the way, the man demanded querulously, "Are you a spy?"

"What?" replied Gulch, startled, "No."

"You wear dark cloth, have strange hat, like the Longcoats do. Longcoat spy!" the little man asserted, jabbing a crudely made spear at him.

"I told you I'm not a spy," the cop insisted, "Ask Cain, he'll tell you." Officer Gulch actually had no idea why he invoked the Tin Man's name; it was just that it had become so entwined with that of the Longcoats that it just slipped out.

"You speak of Wyatt Cain, companion of the Princess DG?" was the persistent reply.

"Yes, I...wait, princess?" Gulch stuttered, incredulous.

"Her Royal Highness DG, Crown Princess of the O.Z. and Hero of the Eclipse, who works endlessly to rid the land of the scourge of Longcoats that continue in their attempt to bring chaos and darkness. In this she is aided by her companion and fellow Hero of the Eclipse Tin Man Wyatt Cain, you speak of him?"

"Uh...yeah?" the cop replied faintly. It was at this point where the policeman realized just how much weirdness he had let slip by in favour of the situation at hand. Cain's constant references to DG by the title 'princess' he had always put down to being an affectionate nickname. He'd assumed the Longcoats were a criminal organization or terrorist group. Words like 'travel storm' and 'magic' he'd simply ignored as code. Aunty bloody Em, what on Earth had DG gotten him into now?

"Speak, spy, what is your purpose in..."

"Gulch!" DG's cry suddenly interrupted, "I'm so glad I found you! I was afraid I'd brought you along, too."

Glancing around quickly, Officer Gulch caught sight of his nemesis as she emerged from the trees. Her gun happy friend was right on her tail; the man seemed to be in a bit of a hurry.

"I'm so sorry," DG continued, "I didn't realize you were behind me until it was too late. Why oh why were you following me?"

"You were speeding!" Gulch exclaimed, taking comfort in the familiar aggravation. As far as he was into the land of the lost he'd take anything approaching sanity.

"Silence spy! We of the Eastern Guild..." the turkey man started.

"We've got to get moving people," Cain cut him off firmly. Reaching the cruiser, the Tin Man opened the door and shoved the policeman roughly out of the driver's seat.

"Hey!" the cop protested, getting tangled in the equipment between the driver's and passenger's seats, "What..."

"Longcoats," DG explained, grabbing the munchkin by the arm and leaping into the backseat. "You know, maybe you should let Gulch drive."

"He doesn't know where we're going," Cain shouted back.

"You could always give him directions ... Wyatt! Slow down!" she shrieked as the car suddenly rocketed forward.

The big man's hand twitched on the wheel in surprise, causing the cruiser to swerve erratically.

"Slow down, oh that's rich coming from you," Officer Gulch muttered, holding onto the armrests for dear life.

"Hey, I've driven before, lots," DG fired back, angrily.

"So have I," rebutted the Tin Man.

"Once and you didn't even know how to start the thing!"

The sudden ping of a bullet ricocheting off the side of the cruiser interrupted the argument. The Tin Man evidently decided evasive action was called for as the car started swerving wildly about.

"This is unnecessary," Gulch interjected hastily, attempting to maintain his grip on the seat, "both the car body and the glass are bulletproof."

The car's path straightened out once more. Glancing back, the cop could only see a tangle of limbs where DG and the turkey man had been thrown violently from their seats.

"Ow," DG said, trying to extricate herself.

"What is it, Princess?" Cain asked anxiously.

"Oh, nothing, just a little spear wound," she replied.

"_What?"_ he exclaimed, and the car was once again slewing about as the Tin Man craned around in his seat to look back at her.

"It's nothing! Watch the road!" she yelled.

As Cain turned around just in time to dodge a tree, Officer Gulch found himself in agreement with DG regarding the choice of driver. Not that he'd say it out loud – the man still had his revolver in easy reach. "Seatbelts everyone!" he ordered instead.

DG immediately complied; no one else knew what he was talking about.

A few minutes later the number of bullets bouncing off the car had increased but the ride itself had smoothed out, well sort of. The 'road' had never been designed for vehicular traffic; Officer Gulch metaphorically kissed his shocks goodbye.

"So is anyone going to tell me what is going on?" he asked at last.

"We don't really have time for that right now," DG replied, "Suffice to say the Longcoats are after us again, we got cut off, and I made a quick trip to Kansas to get alternate transport in the hopes of being able to break through."

"You were going to let _him_ drive a motorbike through this?" the cop commented incredulously as another bullet pinged off the passenger door.

"No, I was going to drive it."

"With him on the back as a human shield?" the cop persisted.

The Tin Man grunted in agreement.

DG frowned, "I would have done something about that."

"Like hell you would, Kid," Cain interjected, "You've used enough magic today, no more except for emergency purposes."

"I think keeping you from getting shot counts as an emergency."

"It does not," he decreed in response.

DG scowled, "OK, fine, not my best plan ever."

"You mean you plan things, DG?" Gulch asked scathingly.

"Hey," the Tin Man barked angrily, shooting a glare at the cop.

Gulch shrank back into his seat and shut up. He remembered suddenly that he had been planning to shoot the man. Didn't seem to be the best idea at present, given that he was one of the only two people the cop knew in this strange place. Also, it would probably be suicidal to attempt. Sigh.

"Well the plan may have been crap," DG continued after a moment, "but I did end up getting us something even better. Couldn't have asked for more than a bulletproof police cruiser."

"A tank?" suggested Gulch.

"Well yes, that'd be nice, but I don't know how to drive one, do you?"

"Quiet everyone, we're almost there," Cain commanded.

Officer Gulch stared in wonder as they approached what was obviously a fortified camp. It was all so...bizarre. Horses and guns, spears and...lightning rods? And the oddest collection of people you ever saw – that one over there appeared to be glowing.

"There's Az," said DG. Then she stuck her hand out the window, and darn it if it wasn't glowing, too.

"DG," the Tin Man gritted out.

"Oh come on, Cain, I have to let them know it's me."

"There are other ways, now get your hand back in the car and cut that out."

DG complied then rolled her eyes and stuck her tongue out at him.

Officer Gulch was happy to see she was still DG even if she did glow a little. Come to think of it, he might have seen her do that before.

Barrelling around a tree the Tin Man finally discovered how to use the brake and screeched to a stop next to Madame Glowstick. The next second he was out of the car and bellowing orders.

"Jeb get them in position, we've got a contingent of Longcoats hot on our trail. Azkadellia I need you over here with DG, she's already used a fair bit of magic today so keep it simple. Now..."

The policeman tuned him out in favour of letting DG out of the back of the cruiser.

"Alright," Cain continued, striding back into their midst, "what we are going to do is..."

He was interrupted by a bullet deflecting off the much abused cruiser and grazing his arm. Apparently their preparation time was up.

In the hail of bullets that followed Officer Gulch let instinct guide him and dove forward to tackle the nearest 'civilian' to the ground. He took a second to orientate himself then reached for his side arm.

"Oof," someone protested from beneath him, "Unable to breathe."

Shifting some of his weight to his elbows the cop raised himself minutely and cautiously to look down at the person. Apparently he'd covered the glowing one, Azkadellia he believed they'd called her. She seemed to be wearing a necklace that was digging into his breastbone, which was fair, he guessed, since his gun must be pressing into her, um.

"Sorry," he said.

She was looking at him strangely. "I need to get to DG," she said.

Looking up carefully Gulch managed to spot them just a few feet away. The Tin Man, it seemed, had gotten DG out of the line of fire by pinning her against a nearby tree. This had the dual advantage of not crushing the breath out of her while allowing him cover from which to return fire. Was the man good at everything? Except driving, that is.

Weighing the options, he reached up swiftly and popped open a car door. Pulling the princess up with him he crouched momentarily behind the cover it provided. Then, in a move that was almost graceful, he pivoted to his feet and whirled them out from behind the door and over to the tree, keeping his body in between the enemy and the princess – like an idiot human shield. DG, he noted, was watching them with interest.

The second the princesses were within reach of each other they locked grips and started to glow. The Tin Man, to Officer Gulch's surprise, relaxed slightly. Then a bullet shattered against the light a few feet from them and he understood...and shifted sideways to get behind it.

"Shrink them?" Azkadellia asked.

"Shrink 'em," DG agreed.

Gulch couldn't say he contributed much to the battle after that point. Wyatt Cain, deadly marksman that he was, kept the Longcoats well clear of the princesses, using up all his bullets, swiping the cop's sidearm and emptying it as well. The other fighters made full account of themselves, too, he was sure. Officer Gulch, on the other hand, watched in jaw dropping awe as the princesses shrunk their enemies into little Tom Thumbs and made them go whizzing across the battlefield into their hands. They had him hold the basket they put them in. He was definitely reaching full weirdness capacity.

Battle over, prisoners incarcerated (he eventually decided to put them in the trunk), Officer Gulch waited to see what was next. Wait, was that? It was.

"Hey," the cop said indignantly as the Tin Man pulled out the stolen glucose metre and applied it to DG's hand.

DG rolled her eyes. "This is your fault," she accused, "he does this every time I use magic now."

Cain didn't comment, merely handed her a couple of what looked like excellent reproductions of his old instaglucose tubes.

Gulch scowled, DG sighed.

"Here," said the Tin Man, tossing him a duplicate device, "check on Azkadellia, will you? I need to get DG to Raw."

"I'm fine, it's nothing," she protested.

It was Officer Gulch's opinion that the accidental stab wound he'd pretty much forgotten about – though the Tin Man naturally hadn't – was anything but nothing. Not life threatening, certainly, but definitely in need of stitches...or, as he learned later, the hands of a big hairy fellow. And he wasn't going to follow that train of thought anywhere. He liked to live.

As Cain and DG headed off, and he stuck a blushing princess with a glucose metre, Officer Gulch hit upon a much better revenge to use against the man who'd caused him so much trouble. His opportunity came about an hour later as the camp was packing up to move back to some place called 'Central City'.

"I was wondering," he asked when he'd finally gotten Cain alone, "are you ever planning on telling DG you are head over heels in love with her?"

Ah yes, the thunderstruck expression on the Tin Man's face was well worth the past few weeks. Finally he'd gotten one up on the man.

"What, did you think you were hiding it?" he said as a parting shot then walked away laughing internally as Cain stared after him in shock.

Of course, a few hours later he didn't feel like laughing in the least. It wasn't the strangeness of the O.Z. that bothered him, or the explanation DG had at last provided; he was following DG's advice. As she had done since she first arrived, he was going with the flow, absorbing what weirdness he could at a time and letting the rest pass him by. He was a cop; weird was par for the course. The man that had introduced himself first as Glitch then later as Ambrose and had fallen in complete love with his cruiser and its gadgets was not a problem. He'd dealt with drug addicts. A strange furry man that could read your mind and heal your wounds with a touch was perfectly acceptable. There was always a fair share of 'psychics' around. Queens and Consorts were not much different from the rich muckity mucks, easy enough to deal with. It was the oldest princess that was the problem.

Officer Gulch had _assumed _once the battle was over and sorted out that someone would send him home. Nope, no dice, apparently the royal family had decided to keep him. It seemed for some reason due to her past all but half a dozen or so people in the O.Z. were terrified of the eldest princess. Only two of those people were remotely capable of being body guards – people who occasionally forget their own name, no matter their martial arts skills, need not apply – and as the Tin Man was utterly preoccupied with the younger princess that apparently left him, Otherside cop. Gulch was pretty sure Cain had put them up to it.

Click.

Surprised, Gulch looked down for the source of the very familiar noise. There appeared to be a handcuff manacle around his left wrist and it appeared to be attached to a similar manacle around Princess Azkadellia's right wrist. When had she gotten there? And for that matter, weren't those his handcuffs – the new pair, not the pair Cain swiped – that had been attached to his belt not moments ago. In a gesture of the Tin Man's that Officer Gulch suddenly understood, the cop felt up his pockets. Nope, no keys. He looked at the princess in puzzlement.

"Cain does this to DG whenever he's worried she is going to run off on him," she explained.

"You aren't going to go anywhere," he replied, still puzzled.

"No, but you might."

Officer Gulch, his bachelor senses tingling, was suddenly very aware that he was in somewhat of an only man in the world situation where the eldest princess was concerned. DG had been somewhat vague on the reasons why, people shrinking capabilities aside, people were so afraid of Azkadellia. Maybe it was that smile. He swallowed hard and considered wistfully that all his free drink bearing well-wishers were now an entire universe away. It just wasn't fair.


	4. Bodyguard

_Disclaimer: I don't own Tin Man and since Officer Gulch is stuck in the O.Z. for the foreseeable future he can't come arrest me either._

_Author's Note: Three things unexpected: 1) Officer Gulch – he was supposed to be the poor stooge in a single oneshot then not only did I come to like him but his stories kept multiplying in my mind. This story was supposed to be done (again) last chapter, but noooo Officer Gulch heard your pleas for more and handed me three more story ideas. Now he's trying to feed me a fourth. Arghhhh! So yeah, this shall continue. 2) Azkadellia – yeah, I didn't see that coming either, but I figured a girl that used to run around sucking out souls might have trouble getting a date and so it goes. 3) I'm not telling, not yet anyhow._

_PS You guys should thank my sister, she stayed up an extra hour waiting for me to finish this just I'd be able to post it sooner rather than later. That's a lot to ask of someone who just came off a night shift at the hospital, fortunately for you guys she loves me. Being the youngest is great sometimes._

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...

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Officer Gulch had decided it was time to switch nemeses. It seemed a shame in some ways - DG had always been such a good one - but times they do change. After all, it's not like she caused him problems on purpose. Sure she was a walking traffic violation, her exploits in Kansas had caused him no end of grief, and she'd capped them off by getting him stranded in the land of the weird, but she never done any of this with the malice of forethought. Wyatt Cain, on the other hand, had. It was the gun happy Tin Man's actions and all's fair in love and the protection of DG attitude that had been the true source of the hell that had been Gulch's last few weeks in Kansas. And it was Cain that had convinced the royal family that keeping the cop was a good idea and, further, that he would make an excellent bodyguard for Princess Azkadellia. Most importantly, it had been Cain who'd introduced the princesses to the concept of interesting uses for handcuffs.

Not that the Tin Man had done more than handcuff DG to him a few times to keep her from wandering. The idea was pretty common and bland in comparison to some of the uses most residents of Earth, or the Otherside as he was learning to call it, could come up with (Officer Gulch suspected that if Cain ever got around to confessing his feelings to DG he was in for a few surprises in that regard). It was just that the princesses had taken the idea and ran with it. DG had come up with the idea of stealing the keys, and Princess Azkadellia had followed her and Cain's examples when she'd decided to chain Officer Gulch to her wrist on his first night in the O.Z. It had taken forever to convince her to let him free.

Well, he hadn't so much convinced her as finally got fed up and dragged her off to find Wyatt Cain and get his set of keys. She was a princess for pity's sake, he was pretty sure that there would be rather nasty consequences for a man of plebeian birth caught spending the night with one, however innocently and no matter it was no fault of his. Castration would probably be involved. Cain could probably get away with it, but then, the man would in all likelihood shoot anyone who objected. So unfair.

Bursting into Cain's chambers with manhood preserving thoughts in mind, Gulch had been completely unprepared for the sight of the Tin Man being pinned to the bed with DG straddling his shirtless chest. Face flaming with embarrassment, the cop had a sudden wish that Princess Azkadellia would shrink him so that he could hide himself effectively _right now_.

Remaining where she was, DG twisted around to face them looking positively annoyed. Cain, meanwhile, was looking extremely obstinate and seemed to be considering how to get the princess off him without hurting her.

"Mind giving me a hand here?" DG asked crossly.

For a stunned moment Officer Gulch actually thought she was asking him to help her ravish the Tin Man. From the sudden flush on the man's face the cop figured Cain knew what Gulch was thinking, that or he was just angry.

"DG," Cain gritted out in protest.

"No!" she hissed, turning back towards him, "You're hurt and so help me I am not leaving this room until it's been taken care of."

Belatedly Gulch remembered that the Tin Man had been grazed by a bullet in the battle earlier that day.

"It's nothing!" Cain insisted.

"That's what I said," DG fired back, "but I seem to recall being dragged off to see Raw anyway."

"Actually," the cop interrupted, "it was a bit more than nothing."

DG turned around once more to glare at him. Even Cain didn't seem particularly grateful for the second opinion. Gulch quailed.

"Is there a reason you decided to invade my room?" the Tin Man asked testily.

"I was hoping to borrow your keys," Officer Gulch replied sheepishly, holding up his wrist, and consequently Princess Azkadellia's. She had been strangely silent throughout the entire encounter. Glancing down at her, Gulch discovered she'd been doing a fabulous job of containing her mirth. The dancing eyes worried him, though.

Anger vanishing instantly, DG began to chuckle. Cain joined her in her mirth.

"Welcome to my life," the Tin Man intoned in false solemnity, displaying an interesting knowledge of Otherside expressions. "The keys are in my jacket pocket, somewhere...over there," he continued, waving vaguely towards the corner of the room.

Making his way over to the discarded jacket with all the haste the reluctant princess would allow, the policeman was disappointed to learn the keys were _not_ in the pocket after all.

"DG," Cain said accusingly.

Sighing, DG reached into her pocket and retrieved Cain's set of handcuff keys.

"Deege!" Azkadellia said, betrayed.

"Oh give him a break, Az," DG countered, "It's his first day in the O.Z.; give the poor man some time to adjust."

Grumbling under her breath, the princess made no more demur when DG tossed the keys to the grateful cop. Free at last, Officer Gulch beat a hasty retreat. He knew better than to interfere when a woman had the intent to nurse in mind, best not to get in the way.

That had been three weeks ago and the cop felt that he and the Tin Man could have had quite the comradeship if it weren't for Cain's apparent desire to make Gulch's life miserable.

"What is _that_?!" the policeman had exclaimed in alarm not one week after his arrival. The royal family had decided to move court to some place called Finaqua for the summer and the O.Z. had been doing its best to assure Gulch that the weirdness was far from over.

"Papay runner," the Tin Man had replied, "Don't worry; they haven't eaten anyone since DG revived their fields."

"What?! Wait! _Eat..._?" the cop had exclaimed in alarm, hand straying to his gun. He noticed that despite Cain's words of reassurance the Tin Man was watching the strange creatures with narrowed eyes.

"Don't worry," DG chimed in, "he's just upset because one of them bit him once."

Well wasn't that just peachy to learn.

Then, of course, there had been the selection and training of official bodyguards to arrange. He couldn't guard the princess 24/7 after all, he was just one man. Sure Cain seemed to have no trouble, but Gulch hadn't been born with a six sense and the ability to hear and distinguish between sounds in his sleep. The cop still wanted to know how the Tin Man could tell the difference between an intruder intent on assassination and DG sneaking down to the kitchen for a midnight snack before he'd even woken up. Officer Gulch had tried to ask the one time he'd stumbled upon the two of them (naturally the man followed her) when on a kitchen raid of his own, but he couldn't get Cain to turn away from the fascinating sight of DG working her way through an entire pie. Well, at least he now knew where she got all the energy.

Anyway, the task at hand was especially difficult for Gulch. Not only had he never done any such thing before, but he also had the added difficulty of weeding out the undesirables in the applicants. Sadly, between the fear and anger the Sorceress' reign had instilled, the number of people even willing to work eldest princess guard duty was extremely low. In the end he'd whittled it down to a guard detail of five somewhat promising individuals. Attempting to channel his instructors from police academy so many years ago, he then endeavoured to put the fear of God into his subordinates and solidify his control. This was especially difficult because a) the religious structure of the O.Z. was considerable different from those of the Otherside, and b) they were _still_ more afraid of Princess Azkadellia than anyone else. It was about this point that the Tin Man stepped in once more.

Officer Gulch would like to say the recruits paid immediate heed to Wyatt Cain when he walked into the room because he was one of their Heroes of the Eclipse. Unfortunately, he knew they snapped to attention because the Tin Man entered in the same manner he'd first introduced himself to the policeman; he was in Dangerous Man with a Gun Mode.

"Listen up, gentlemen," he stated menacingly, "I know that you are now part of Princess Azkadellia's protection detail and therefore entrusted with her safety first and foremost. As you may know, I am in charge of the Princess DG's safety and wellbeing. That being so, I just thought I'd inform you that the princess is extremely fond of her sister; any harm to Princess Azkadellia is harm to Princess DG _and I will not allow harm to Princess DG_. Is that understood? Good."

Glaring at each of the men in turn, the Tin Man then turned and marched right back out of the room again.

Officer Gulch had no trouble with his men after that. _No one_ wanted to defy Wyatt the-world-will-bow-to-the-safety-and-protection-of-DG Cain. Princess Azkadellia's new protection detail could not be more diligent in their tasks or more attentive to their commander's orders. The cop had the feeling that if he told them to hop around the palace backwards on one foot while singing show tunes they'd go out of their way to learn what show tunes were to comply. Occasionally he had the evil urge to test that theory.

The real joke of the matter was that Cain actually _wasn't_ officially in charge of DG's protection detail. She had any number of people ready and willing to guard her, being a hero and a crown princess and all that, but with the Tin Man around they were all a bit superfluous. Turns out, after the – sort of – demise of the Sorceress, DG had flatly refused to turn her greatest protector and friend from the quest for the emerald into some sort of lackey or human shield. Cain being Cain, however, he merely hung around and protected her anyhow. A few of the official bodyguards tried, in the beginning, to establish control and even attempted to put the Tin Man in his place. They said hello to his gun then goodbye to the palace. It took surprisingly little time for people to stop questioning his authority. The Queen and her Consort merely shrugged their shoulders, declared him a royal advisor, and paid him just the same. Everyone was happy.

Gulch would like to be happy. At this moment he was far from happy because at this moment he was dressed up like a peacock and attempting to hide behind the draperies. Exactly who, he wanted to know, had decreed that body guards should attend balls and as guests no less? And what dictated that he must dressed up like he just walked off the set of some Jane Austen film? For that matter, why did Cain get to show up wearing what basically amounted to a newer, better quality version of his usual outfit? Watching a man walk by that looked like he belonged to the court of Louis XIV, he supposed it could have been worse. Powdered wigs had never been a good idea.

Mindful of his duties as bodyguard, Officer Gulch did try his best to keep an eye on Princess Azkadellia from his hiding place. A small part of his mind did point out that it was undignified of an officer of the law to hide behind curtains but he told it to shut up. Self preservation had such a louder voice. Apparently this whole matter of being commander of a protection detail and the bodyguard to Princess Azkadellia herself gave him all kinds of manliness points in the O.Z. He'd felt positively hunted since the ball began. Hiding was the only option, besides he was learning lots. Apparently Princess Azkadellia used to suck people's souls out. Oh happy days.

Princess Azkadellia had not been pleased by Gulch's sudden and inexplicable popularity. He knew this because she'd been off holding her sister's hand within an hour of the commencement of the ball. She did that when she was upset or nervous. Though the royal family had been somewhat vague on the specifics of the eldest princess' past – not wanting to add her new protector to the ranks of the frightened, no doubt – Officer Gulch had deduced from experience that Princess Azkadellia had an abandoned child living within her mind. Holding her sister's hand made the princess feel safe. He could understand that, seeing they went all glowy and invincible when they did so. What he didn't understand is why he was her favourite DG substitute. Well, that wasn't precisely true, but since he didn't feel particularly comfortable with the implications he was pleading mental ignorance.

Since Gulch's retreat into the window treatments, the eldest princess had brightened considerably and was currently dancing with the man everyone was calling Glitch tonight. The policeman eyed him narrowly for a minute. The cop was becoming adept at deciphering people's reactions to the princess; Glitch/Ambrose was under the categorization 'Results May Vary' (Glitch was generally perfectly polite to the princess, Ambrose ran away screaming). Satisfied that he was well and truly Glitch tonight, Officer Gulch let his gaze move on.

Cain was standing in the corner across the ballroom watching DG carefully. The Tin Man would probably have been subjected to the same unwanted attention as the Othersider bodyguard if it weren't for the fact that he was looking especially alarming tonight. This was likely due to the hoard of would-be suitors currently besieging the crown princess. Officer Gulch had learned quite early on that all the nobles hoping to acquire the title of Future Consort were focusing their attention on the younger princess. A development that obviously didn't sit well with the Tin Man whose glower was darkening with each passing moment.

_As if any of them have a chance_, the policeman thought before shrugging it off as unimportant. They'd figure it out eventually.

He turned his attention back to his charge, happy that the 'headcase' was dancing with her...for all of thirty seconds then the wrong switch was apparently thrown in the man's brain and he went into Kung Fu Ninja Mode. The policeman sighed then dashed out of cover and onto the dance floor.

Fortunately for Officer Gulch's reputation, Glitch did not seem to be interested in attacking the princess but instead aimed himself at the nearby dancers. Having reached the scene of the commotion, he dutifully pulled Princess Azkadellia out of the way and then began to assess the situation. Unfortunately for Gulch, however, he was having another of those lawman misinterpreted moments and Glitch designated him as a target. It made a wonderful distraction for Cain, his fist crashing into the zipperhead's jaw just as Glitch's foot clocked the cop in the temple. _Of course_, Gulch thought, dropping to the floor unconscious.

He woke sometime later laid out on one of the sofas, his head cradled in the eldest princess' lap and a furry fellow's hand on his forehead. Raw he figured the name was.

"Gulch worried, scared..." the man began.

"Hey now!" Gulch exclaimed indignantly, sitting up abruptly and batting Raw's hand aside. He was a country bred Kansas cop, for pity's sake, he did not go around having conversations about his feelings in the middle of a ball. Or even after a ball for that matter. Or before. Or...it just wasn't happening is all, and that was final.

Glaring at Raw, Officer Gulch addressed himself to the princess. "What set him off?" he asked, taking cover in Police Interrogation Mode.

"Well, there were those snide comments about Cain and more than a few mutterings about evil witches," contemplated Princess Azkadellia, "but I think it was the criticism on his dancing that was the grain of moritanium that broke the munchkin's back." Smiling whimsically at the policeman she explained, "He's very fond of his rhythm, you see, it's the one thing he didn't lose when he had half his brain ripped out."

"Half his brain..." Gulch started faintly. He'd always wondered why the Tin Man always called Glitch/Ambrose 'headcase' and 'zipperhead'.

"Yes," the princess confirmed with an odd little grimace.

Officer Gulch decided he didn't want to know. Instead he turned to see what had happened to the ball during his...break.

Apparently nothing, he was unsurprised to find. Given that the near civil war that had been going on since this Day of the Eclipse hadn't stopped the nobility from holding the ball in the first place, he might have expected a little bit of mild violence wouldn't hold up the show. The victims, such as himself, had been cleared to the sides to recover, the perpetrator had been removed until further notice, and then it was party on.

Well, there were some changes. Cain, it seemed, had finally gotten tired of growling in the sidelines and was now whirling a laughing DG about the dance floor. He even looked in danger of laughing himself. Gulch wondered if the man was ever going to get around to confessing the obvious.

Frowning, the Othersider contemplated the matter further. He wondered if there'd be any political bars obstructing the couple. Glancing over at the Consort, however, he doubted it. He'd been surprised on meeting the man to recognize him from his missing persons report. Apparently not all goose chases your captain sent you on as a rookie were actually goose chases. It was just that it didn't occur to anyone that the man would actually be in Kansas to create a safe house for his youngest child so his eldest daughter didn't kill her...again. Strange that.

No, he didn't think politics would be that big of an issue. The real problem was probably the man himself. Cain was obviously head over heels for DG and knew it; Gulch figured that he was probably over thinking things, though. Sure, he understood the Tin Man had all sorts of emotional baggage to sort through, but he was willing to bet the man was worried more about the age and social gaps. Which was absolutely absurd – if DG didn't care then it wasn't anyone else's business – but you never could trust people in love to think straight. Number of times as a cop he'd had to deal with love-struck idiots...

His thoughts were interrupted abruptly by the feel of Princess Azkadellia's hand slipping into his. What was bothering her now? Looking down he found her looking up at him expectantly. What?

"You want some food?" he asked, panicked. Oh, that was smooth.

The princess sighed then decided to take what she could get, "Sure."

Helping her up from the sofa, Gulch was just thinking that the night hadn't been all that bad when he realized he'd just cursed it. Yup, there it was, a headache at twelve o'clock in the form of a knife wielding crazy person shouting about evil witches. Well at least he knew the intended victim.

Acting on the instincts that had got him this job in the first place, Officer Gulch dived at the princess. Intending to whirl her into the cover of a nearby alcove as he'd often seen Cain do in defence of DG, the cop forgot two key points: 1) he was not Wyatt Cain, and 2) there was a sofa in the way. Naturally, mid whirl their knees collided with the edge of sofa and their momentum carried them forward as they toppled ass-end over teakettle and finally landed in a tangle of limbs and skirts. On the plus side, he'd provided them with excellent cover.

Blinded by fabric and trying to orientate himself, the cop heard two quick shots as the Tin Man dropped the attacker with two precision shots to the chest. He assumed that's who it was, anyhow, who else but Wyatt Cain would bring a gun to the ball? _Probably should in future_, the policeman thought, trying to fight his way free of the princess' dress, _shame it wouldn't match the outfit._

Silence reigned in the aftermath of the violence. Then quite suddenly, Azkadellia burst out laughing. This was probably not going to help her reputation as a non-psychopathic individual. Fortunately, the guests nearest her turned at the sound and discovered the reason behind it. There they were, princess and bodyguard, piled behind the sofa in a heap of limbs, the bodyguard fighting desperately to untangle himself from the princess' skirts. Others began to join in the mirth.

"Where's the exit!" Gulch exclaimed at last.

The entire ballroom burst into laughter.

A few moments later, with a little help from Azkadellia, the cop re-emerged, red faced and trying to catch his bearings. The Tin Man was standing in the middle of the floor, DG tucked protectively behind his back, gun still levelled at the attacker as if expecting round two. It could be seen from his twitching lip, however, that Cain was merely trying to keep his composure for the sake of the embarrassed policeman. DG, on the other hand, was looking at Officer Gulch like he was the hero of the ball.

Half an hour later the 'mess' had been cleared up and Gulch had finally stopped blushing. He did wish that the princess would stop grinning at him, though.

"Well," he finally managed, "I guess I should get you back to your chambers."

Azkadellia's smile dimmed slightly, "I want to dance."

"Someone just tried to assassinate you," he said incredulously.

"And someone will probably try again tomorrow, the ball, however, is today."

"But..."

"Look," she interrupted, "I spent fifteen years possessed by an evil witch. Most of those years I spent bringing misery and pain to the people of the O.Z., there are people that want me dead. There probably always will be. I. Want. To. Dance."

Gulch wondered why that sounded more like a threat than a plea. Settling back into the sofa he capitulated. "Fine."

Click.

"Let me rephrase that..."

The cop looked down at the handcuff bracelet now adorning his left wrist with something akin to panic.

"..._we_ are going to dance."

"Is that really necessary?" Gulch asked indignantly.

"Do I have to make it a royal decree?" the princess asked threateningly.

For a brief moment Officer Gulch hoped that the shooting would have shut the ball down for the night. To give the nobles credit, even they were reluctant to carry on given the attack on royalty and all. When Princess Azkadellia looked at the musicians and told them to play, however, they _played_. Pretty soon the ball was back in full swing, if a little more subdued.

Hours later, having been danced almost to death, Officer Gulch sat on a bar stool, princess still chained to his wrist and now sleeping on his shoulder. He looked at the alcohol bottles wistfully. None of the bartenders would come near him. Apparently since her reign as Sorceress and liberal use of 'Azkadellia's vapours' to subdue the population she had become rather negatively vocal on the subject of mind altering substances. The bartenders didn't dare serve him a drink in the eldest princess' presence. Sigh.

"Could I get a flute of Papay Spirits?" DG's voice suddenly came from the right.

Officer Gulch was about to reprimand her when, after a quick mental calculation, he realized she was now of legal drinking age. At least anywhere he had jurisdiction. The Tin Man, on the other hand, didn't care about legal drinking ages and intercepted the glass.

"I don't think so, Princess."

"Hey!" DG protested.

Cain ignored her and Gulch noticed that she was looking more than a little tired. In fact, she swayed slightly as he watched her. Then he was looking at DG's derriere as the Tin Man hefted her over his shoulder. The cop decided there were healthier places to look and immediately moved his eyes to a new location.

"Here," Cain said, placing the glass in front of him, "you look like you could use it." Then he strode off, taking the youngest princess with him.

Well, maybe the Tin Man wasn't his nemesis after all. In fact he was downright decent. Sipping the drink DG had once described to him as vodquila, he decided he'd best savour it as it was probably the last free drink he'd get for a long, long time.

About thirty seconds later he realized he'd missed a key opportunity. Here he was, sitting at the bar, still handcuffed to the oldest princess of the O.Z. who he knew, from his unintentional exploration of her dress earlier, did not have the keys on her. And he'd just let the only other owner of handcuffs simply walk away with his freedom. Oh damn.


	5. Here Comes Trouble

_Disclaimer: I would almost think it would be fair to say I own Officer Gulch, at least this version of him, but since he is a Tin Man character I guess I can't say that. Sadly, I own none of them._

_Author's Note: Alright! I give in! I WAS going to just finish this up quickly with those other two oneshots Gulch handed me, but then the princesses snuck in through the side door and handed me a third. Then that story had a kid and invited its big sister along to help. And then the kid made friends. So yes, ladies and gentlemen, this is now officially a story. You will have to be patient at times, some of the chapters were handed to me in full, others need developing. Some might even be missing. At some point I should do schoolwork or sleep. So you might have to wait a day or two for an update from time to time. How many more chapters you say? So far at least seven and an epilogue. Since Gulch started at one end of the timeline and the princesses at the other, who knows what will happen. I expect Cain to chime in any day now. But please, please, please after I get some sleep._

* * *

...

* * *

Officer Gulch often wondered if anything happened in the O.Z. without the presence of DG. Certainly it had seemed back in Kansas that wherever she went trouble followed, and by his observations this past DG-less month the rule seemed to be holding true. Trouble had been noticeably absent at Finaqua as if it had followed DG on her trip to inspect the Northern Island. That or it was waiting until she got back again to stir up a ruckus. Whatever the case, the policeman was enjoying the break.

Clever fellow that he was, the cop was using the time to absorb and process as much weirdness as possible so that he could be less bewildered in future. He was learning a great deal, and found it helped one cope if one broadened their definition of logic and basically ignored the laws of physics whenever convenient. Gulch especially liked that part; he'd never been too fond of physics. Another thing he was happy to learn was that the Papay really weren't likely to try and eat him the next time he travelled through their fields. He would admit the idea had worried him. Other bits of information he could have done without, such as the fact that the protection detail he was in charge of was slowly losing respect for him.

Of course, the best piece of new information he obtained had to be the confirmation that Princess Azkadellia had not only had half of Ambrose's brain ripped out, she'd also used it make a machine intended to blot out the suns and bring permanent darkness to the O.Z. Fun times. It occurred to Officer Gulch on occasion that he really ought to be more disturbed by all these soul-sucking, brain ripping, sister murdering habits he kept learning the eldest Princess had. Strangely enough, however, it was this part of the O.Z. that he had the easiest time dealing with. His mind would stutter a slight 'oh' at each new revelation then carry on with its day. The way he figured it, his brain had categorized her actions under the heading 'Abandoned and Neglected Child Acting Out'. No big deal, he was more concerned about his underlings' opinion of him.

It was not that they disrespected him per say, it was just that they had begun to referring to him as 'Old Gulchy' when they thought he wasn't within hearing. The connotation of the nickname being that he was a well-intentioned yet slightly senile old bungler. Never mind that the cop wasn't yet out of his thirties but he didn't think he was doing that badly. True the assassination attempt at the ball last month had been a fiasco, what with him getting lost in the eldest princess' skirts while Cain shot the intruder. And it hadn't been nearly as fun as that last sentence made it sound. Added to the fact that the only battle with the Longcoats he had been present for had taken place immediately after his arrival to the O.Z., which resulted in him being so overloaded with new information he'd basically just stood around goggling at everything. Frankly, it was hard sometimes not to feel inadequate.

To be fair to the cop, it was difficult to feel like you measured up when you constantly had the Tin Man on hand setting the example. In part it was his police training at fault. Gulch had been trained to be a peacekeeper, meaning his primary task was to calm situations down and using his gun was a last resort. Cain, on the other hand, was a peacemaker. He opened negotiations with a loaded revolver and either the concerned parties made peace or he did - one way or another. Wyatt the-world-will-do-what-I-say-or-I-will-shoot-it Cain was a tough act to follow.

Fortunately Officer Gulch did not have to worry about the opinion of his men interfering with the execution of their duties. They were, of course, too afraid of He-Who-Will-Allow-No-Harm-To-DG to risk failing even in the slightest in their protection detail, harm to Princess Azkadellia being explicitly delineated as harm to Princess DG.

Concerns over his reputation aside, however, the past month had been spent quite peacefully being followed around by Princess Azkadellia. He understood the irony of practically being stalked by the very person he was assigned to shadow. The protection detail had been set up in rotating shifts so that everyone got sufficient rest and down time, yet no matter whether he was on duty or off, Gulch had found that the princess tended to show up wherever he happened to be. It was convenient in some ways, as he didn't have to go out of his way to get status reports, but the rest of the time it was just plain confusing. Didn't the princess have anything better to do? Then he'd realized that she was merely looking for her favourite security blanket substitute.

It had caused a great deal of gossip in the initial days after DG's departure when the elder princess was seen so often holding her chief bodyguard's hand. Some of the more malicious tongues had even tried to cause stir over the matter. However, the man in question treated the gesture in such an easy matter of course manner that a scandal never really got going. There had been plenty of precedence after all, and as enough people had figured out her reason for clinging to her sister's hand, it did not take much for them to figure out the reason why she clung to her bodyguard's. In the end, the whole situation had a humanizing effect on the people's opinions of the former Sorceress and even helped in her ongoing quest to re-establish her reputation.

Neither the averted scandal nor its happy consequences were noticed by Officer Gulch, however, as he was too busy nervously counting down the days until his vacation was over. DG was due back any day now which meant he only had a few more trouble free days left to enjoy. Feeling charitable in his relaxation, the cop was willing to admit she didn't mean to cause people problems, but the fact remained that they occurred anyhow, generally as a direct result of her actions or existence. He was mentally batting down the hatches.

The reunion was uneventful enough. The sisters shared glowing hugs, the bodyguards exchanged manly nods, and Glitch introduced himself to everyone. Ah, so it was one of _those_ days. All in all it was business as usual, though Gulch noticed that Cain and DG seemed strangely ill at ease with each other. It wasn't particularly odd, considering their strange little dance, that they have the occasional off day but the cop was so used to seeing them working like a well oiled machine that it set his policeman instincts off. DG was having trouble meeting the Tin Man's eyes – and when did _DG_ ever having trouble returning scrutiny? – and Cain was watching her like a hawk. Not that there was anything different about Cain's near obsessive observation of said princess, but something in the quality of it was a bit...off.

"You guys didn't have a near death experience up in the Northern Island did you?" he asked bluntly.

DG, in the midst of sipping tea, choked.

"No," said the Tin Man.

"Are you sure?" the cop pursued sceptically.

"Yes," said DG, recovering, "No one had a near death experience."

Cain snorted.

Officer Gulch hated it when people kept secrets – they usually came around later and bit him in the ass – but the Tin Man was getting that 'I'd love to shoot someone' look on his face so he let it drop.

Trouble arrived on schedule later that afternoon. Its name was Glitch and came in the form of the new machine he'd just invented and wanted them all to see. Or maybe Ambrose had invented it; it was hard to tell some days.

"I extrapolated the basics from DG's tales of the Otherside. Obviously figuring out the power conversion took extensive calculation given the oddness of Otherside technology but as you can see I managed satisfactorily. Fortunately there was plenty of available moritanium on hand following the dismantling of the Anti-sunseeder."

Okaaaay, apparently Ambrose invented it. Sitting on the dock of Finaqua Lake was the O.Z.'s version of a submarine. Officer Gulch had to admit it looked impressive.

"Would you like a tour?" the royal advisor asked hopefully.

Both crown princess and Tin Man balked at the entrance, interestingly enough, but then DG's curiosity got the better of her and she slipped inside. In Cain's mind, he had no choice but to follow.

It wasn't bad, Officer Gulch thought, entering the machine after Princess Azkadellia. Not terribly spacious, but he figured it was about the size of a small plane meant to carry about half a dozen people. He wondered what the practical purposes of the craft were supposed to be. It would be fine for a short trip but he'd hate to spend a significant amount of time inside.

"Hey, what does this doohicky do?" asked a voice that was definitely Glitch.

The cop turned in alarm, just in time to see the headcase standing on the dock pulling a lever that he recalled being distinctly labelled 'Do Not Touch'. _Oh come on_, the policeman thought, and then the craft's door slammed shut, there was the distinct sound of bolts sliding home, and the submarine slid into the lake.

A few crowded moments later Officer Gulch used his experience to extricate himself from the eldest princess skirts – it helped that they were lest voluminous today – and helped her stand. Cain, naturally, had managed to catch DG when they were thrown from their feet and landed upright on one of the benches.

"So," said Gulch, seating himself beside Princess Azkadellia, "we appear to be at the bottom of the lake."

Oddly enough there was no response from the Tin Man. Glancing to the side, the cop noticed that Cain was still holding DG and seemed to be doing his best impression of a statue. It was actually a pretty good one.

"Um, hello?" a tinny voice that sounded like Glitch interrupted his thoughts.

Inspecting the surroundings, Officer Gulch managed to locate the radio.

"We're here, over," he replied automatically.

"What's over?"

Sighing Gulch said, "Never mind that. Can you please get your craft to surface now?"

"Um," came the ominous reply, "not sure how."

"What do you mean not sure how?" the cop demanded.

"Well, you went down without a pilot."

"Could one of us pilot the vessel?"

"I'm sure you could," said Glitch, "except the controls aren't accessible from the passenger compartment."

_Of course_, Gulch thought in exasperation. "Could you please try to think of some other way to get us out of here," he gritted out.

"I don't mind taxing my noggin for DG's sake. Hey, what does this do?"

"Oh come on!" the cop bellowed into the mike. They should have known better than to follow the headcase anywhere when he was having one of those days. Turning around, he surveyed the assembled castaways. The Tin Man was beginning to show signs of life, DG was looking strained, and Princess Azkadellia seemed merely resigned. "Well, any ideas?" he asked.

"I am afraid not," the eldest princess replied, "In the past I just went and picked through Ambrose's brain every time I wanted a machine to work. We are probably stuck until Glitch or Ambrose figure out a solution."

Cain stood abruptly, striding hastily forward before stopping dead in the middle of the compartment staring at the door.

What was wrong with the man? If it wasn't bad enough being stuck on the bottom of the lake in a small metal box invented by a man that occasionally forgot his own name, the Tin Man had to go adding a twitchy armed individual to the equation. Casting about for a distraction, Gulch asked the first question that came to mind.

"So what did happen in the Northern Island?"

"Oh something like this," DG said finally, slowly getting up and making her way over to Cain. It took all of two steps. "We got locked in a dark little room, I did some freaking out."

Her words, Gulch noticed, seemed to focus the Tin Man somewhat.

"You alright?" Cain asked her, his voice sounded oddly distant.

"Hang on," the cop said before she could reply, "Since when have you been claustrophobic, DG?" Recalling a few of her famous childhood exploits vividly, he would have said she was anything but. A gasp from his right drew his attention. Turning he discovered that Princess Azkadellia was looking rather like someone had just shot her favourite mobat.

"It's because I locked you in that marble sarcophagus isn't it?" she asked, looking like she was going to be sick.

Officer Gulch wondered if he was ever going to reach the end of her Things-I-Did-While-I-Was-A-Psychopath list.

"It's ok Az, it wasn't your fault," DG stressed, "besides, as long as I have light and some windows I'm ok, mostly, but..."

As she trailed off and looked back at the Tin Man two thoughts collided in Gulch's brain and the truth dawned. He realized suddenly what the submarine, with its narrow metal confines and small windows, would look like to Cain. His respect for the man's courage and devotion to DG rocketed up quite a few notches.

"Why did you come in here?" DG asked trying to pry open one of Cain's fists.

Still caught up in his thoughts Gulch commented absently, "Of course he came in here, you did."

Her wounded gasp pulled him out of his abstraction. Glancing up at DG, he noticed she looked like he'd just run over her dog. Since her dog was also her Tutor, that conveyed a lot of pain. Oh he was on a roll - that was two princesses he'd made miserable in all of three minutes. Worked wonders on the Tin Man, too.

Coming suddenly to life, Cain pulled DG to him. "It's not your fault," he muttered into her hair. Then he shot a death glare over her shoulder at the policeman.

Swallowing hard and turning away, pretending that Wyatt just-had-both-my-legs-sliced-off-and-the-world's-about-to-blow-up-but-never-mind-that-how-is-DG Cain wasn't trying to see whether looks could actually kill in the O.Z., Officer Gulch looked at Princess Azkadellia instead. Unfortunately she wasn't looking too pleased with his lack of tact either.

Then two more thoughts collided. He wasn't especially happy with the idea they presented him with, he was pretty sure it was going to get him shot. Given the way the day was going, however, he might as well accept the inevitable.

"Why don't you shrink him?" Gulch asked Azkadellia. Yup, there it was, we have holster clearage. It amazed the policeman how the Tin Man could pull off the tender protector and the violent promise of death at one and the same moment. DG had hardly even noticed him drawing his gun.

"_What did you say?_" Cain menaced.

"Listen," the cop begged, drawing on his academy training in dealing with hostile individuals, "it is a perfectly reasonable solution. You shrink and the room gets a whole lot bigger. Bye-bye claustrophobia. Not to mention the fact you will be using a lot less oxygen, something that we might want to consider. Anyone have any idea if there is an air supply to this thing?"

It was a very good point. Gulch was not surprised that he had not thought of it before, however, Cain with a gun, especially slightly crazy, was always a more immediate threat. Now that the thought was stomping across his mental plateau, on the other hand, it was taking rather urgent precedence in his mind. The zipperhead had built this thing based on information culled from DG's stories. Would DG have thought to inform him of the need to scrub the air of carbon dioxide? It was such common knowledge on the Otherside that it might never occurred to her to bring it up. And how much of this thing was built by Glitch and how much by Ambrose? _Creeks and paddles,_ he thought worriedly.

The Tin Man's expression made it clear that he was thinking along the same lines. He hadn't dropped the revolver, mind, but thoughts pertaining to the safety and wellbeing of DG were definitely passing through his brain. Cain might have held out for the sake of pride or shear stubbornness, but when it came to his princess the man would leave no stone unturned to protect her. Gulch could almost read in his eyes the exact moment the Tin Man caved to the cop's suggestion.

"Alright," Cain said, holstering the revolver once more.

"Actually," DG chimed in, "could you shrink me, too?" Smiling apologetically at her sister she continued, "I wouldn't mind if the room got bigger, personally, and we will save even more oxygen that way."

Princess Azkadellia made that odd little grimace Gulch had learned to associate with her regret over her past misdeeds.

"If you are sure," she replied.

"Just do it," Cain said, "Let's get this over with."

"As you wish," the eldest princess replied then she waved at Cain. He suddenly shrank and went flying across the room into her waiting hand. She repeated the process with DG. "Are you guys alright?" she asked her cupped palms.

"I'm fine," Gulch barely heard DG say.

"Oh good," her sister replied, "I have never done that when particularly concerned about the welfare of the victims before."

And another addition to Gulch's list of cheery thoughts.

"How is it?" the eldest princess continued.

"Better," the Tin Man replied.

Turning his attention back to the radio, Gulch thought it was time to see if Glitch had come up with a solution.

"Submarine to surface, submarine to surface, please come in," he intoned.

"Hello?" was the tinny response.

"Glitch, how's our rescue plan going?"

"Do I know you?"

Officer Gulch, manfully he thought, resisted the impulse to start beating his head against the bulkhead.

"Call him Zipperhead," was Cain's suggestion.

At this point willing to try anything, Gulch complied, "Zipperhead! Remember us, the people you dropped to the bottom of the lake in the metal tub you built?"

"Oh, Gulch! Hi!" was the reply.

The policeman closed his eyes in exasperation. "Yes, Glitch, now have you figured out how to get us back to the surface?"

"Um...no and, uh, you might want to not breath so much."

There it was: that little trickle of panic that Gulch had become sadly familiar with since coming to the O.Z., or rather before, since meeting Cain. "Princess Azkadellia shrunk Cain and DG," he said almost desperately.

"Really? I thought she'd stopped doing that. It will help though. Maybe she should shrink everyone," Glitch replied brightly, "Now go away a minute, Ambrose and I are in the middle of stressing the synapses."

Gulch sighed then paced back to plunk himself back down on the bench beside Princess Azkadellia. There was a tiny scream, a slightly louder bellow, and a small bang.

"Ow!" cried the cop in surprise. Apparently while he was busy with the radio the eldest princess had set her sister and the Tin Man down on the bench. Officer Gulch had nearly squashed mini DG. Acting on instinct, mini Cain had shot him. Mini bullets hurt!

Princess Azkadellia swiftly reached down to scoop them up once more.

"Holy shit!" DG was saying, "That's going to give me nightmares for life. Years from now I'm going to wake up screaming 'Not the butt! Not the butt!'"

"I second Glitch's Gulch starts breathing less motion," opined Cain, "In fact I vote that he stops breathing altogether."

"Hey now," Gulch protested, "It was an accident."

"Actually I was thinking about that," DG said, ignoring him, "before the Attack of the Butt, anyhow. Az do you remember how you shrunk Ahamo and sent him off somewhere with the clap of your hands?"

The grimace was back.

"Can you do that again? With us?"

Azkadellia considered the notion. "If the prison still exists I can send you guys there but at this distance I can't send myself. It would help, though. Give me a second." Turning to the window she passed a hand over it. The glass shimmered momentarily then cleared to show a dark, severely decorated room. Towards the center of the room sat a strange, domed pedestal.

"Well," said the princess, "it's still there. I suspected it might be. Since we have yet to decide what to do about the tower anything that wasn't needed immediately was just left behind. I can send you all there then tell Glitch where to find you, just in case."

"What just a minute there, Your Highness," interjected Wyatt my-middle-name-is-nobility Cain, "we can't just leave you here alone."

"You really don't have a say in the matter," she rebutted, "Now kindly stop breathing my oxygen." And she clapped her hands.

Officer Gulch decided it was a mark of his acclimation to the O.Z. that he didn't start forward in horror to pry her hands apart. He didn't even get upset; he merely correctly assumed that she had some magic in the making and sat back to watch her disappearing act.

"Alright," the princess said, brushing her hands together in a business-like manner, "now it's your turn."

"Oh no you don't," exclaimed Gulch, hastily grabbing her wrists to prevent magical hand waves, "I'm your bodyguard which means I don't go anywhere without you, it would be a dereliction of duty unbefitting of a Kansas policeman. You may shrink me if you like, to conserve oxygen, but I'm not leaving you here alone."

Officer Gulch didn't know it but he was being provided with an expression of the princess' no one had seen before: one of jaw-dropping shock. Then she got her surprise under control and started looking at him funny, it made him kind of nervous.

At which point two thoughts ran into other in his head again; he wished they'd stop doing that they were going to give him a terrible headache. Not to mention the information provided wasn't particularly happy making.

"You alright, Princess?" he asked.

"Pardon?" she asked, confused by the sudden shift in thought.

"Well you've been using a lot of magic today. If you were DG, Cain would be having a fit by now, checking your blood sugar and shoving instaglucose down your throat. Are you getting drained?"

"Oh! No, I'm fine," she replied. Answering his unspoken question the princess continued, "DG is actually far more powerful than me, the problem is she doesn't have very good technique. How should I put it? Say we needed to put out a small campfire, all you would need is a bucket of water. I am able to do that, just grab a bucket, DG, on the other hand, throws the whole lake. The fire gets put out, sure, but it involves a huge waste. She is getting better, mind, but she is still prone to overdo it, that's why her Tin Man gets so worked up."

"That might be a slight understatement," he countered. Gulch vividly recalled the one time he'd seen DG drained. Saying Cain had been upset at the time is like saying it only stung to be electrocuted. The man had looked about ready to dismantle the cop's cruiser in helpless frustration...

And at last two thoughts bumped heads in a manner that the policeman finally approved of. Releasing the princess' wrists he stood and stepped over to the panelling at the front of the cabin.

"Princess," he said absently, "could you get Glitch on the mike? I have an idea."

Puzzled but willing, Azkadellia flipped the switch and said, "Glitch are you..."

She was interrupted by a shriek from the other end.

"_Ambrose_," Gulch muttered, "Here, let me. See if you can find something to use on those bolts. Hey Zipperhead," he said into the radio, "Zipperhead are you there?"

"Do I..."

"If you even think of finishing that sentence I am going to throttle you when I get out of here," Gulch warned, "Listen up Glitch, is there any way a man shrunk down to say three inches could make it through the parts of this rust bucket and into the pilot's chair?"

There was a moments silence then, "Yes! Give me a second to grab the schematic."

"Great," the cop said turning back towards the princess, "now where are we on..."

Princess Azkadellia stood in front of a wall of circuitry from which all accessible panelling had been removed, holding up a glowing hand.

"Right."

Half an hour later the eldest princess of the O.Z. stood at the front of the cabin holding a mini Gulch in her hands.

"Are you sure about this?" she asked, worried.

"Doesn't matter if I'm not, I'm the only one here," he replied.

"I wish we'd thought of this before we sent Cain away."

"Sure, send a claustrophobic man through the cramped inner workings of a machine, and they say you're not evil anymore," Gulch rejoined sarcastically. Then his brain kicked him. Wincing he muttered apologetically, "Sorry, I forget."

Oddly enough, when he hesitantly glanced up at her, Princess Azkadellia looked like he'd said the most beautiful thing ever. Women.

"Alright let's get this over with," he said and climbed into the machinery.

"Go straight across the circuit board," Azkadellia relayed Glitch's instructions, "turn right at the green wire, go through the bracket and around the main bolt and..."

"Oh come on!" a tiny bellow interrupted. For a tiny bellow it was impressively loud, and it was immediately followed by yelling. "Chompers, the bloody headcase put in fu...fudging chompers!" he corrected hastily, remembering there were ladies present, "Not even low budget science fiction shows use that one anymore!" He was going to _kill_ Glitch.

"You mean the pistons?" the listening lady asked.

Oh. Right. He remembered now that he was currently three inches tall, of course they were pistons. A thought nudged him and he groaned, "_Please_ tell me that the next direction wasn't..."

"Go through the pistons," the princess confirmed unhappily.

Head in his hands, Gulch called back, "Do I at least get some sort of sequence? Or do I have to wing it?"

"There's a sequence," she assured him.

And it worked all fine and dandy until Glitch had a major synaptic misfire with two pistons to go. By the time Gulch realized he'd received a repeat of the last direction he'd already moved forward and that piston was coming _down_.

"_Glitch!_" Azkadellia screeched, trying to shake the headcase out of it – not soon enough.

Officer Gulch would later thank his adrenaline rush for slowing the world down enough that he could react. Over the next several intense seconds he could have, had they but known it, taught the zipperhead a thing or two about rhythm. It was impressive dance with death, and when he emerged triumphant on the other side he'd lost no more than a little skin and his left shoe.

Then he puked his guts out.

"Officer! Officer Gulch!" the princess called desperately.

"I'm OK," he managed around heaves.

"I'm. Going. To. Kill. Him," she snarled back.

"I think that line is getting pretty long at this point."

"Fine, then I'm ripping his brain back out."

Gulch sighed. Fifteen minutes later he had managed to navigate the rest of the way and, having decided against descending Mount Everest, sat on the back of the pilot's seat with the intention of sliding in as he grew.

"Ready?" Azkadellia asked.

"Ready."

BAM!

It took real effort to stop from cursing this time. Not expecting to be returned to full height so swiftly, Officer Gulch had shot up straight into the ceiling.

"Are you OK?" the princess asked, anxious once more.

"_Sonofa...GunsNRosesAs...ssociatebanker'slefttest..._ I'm fine!" came the interesting response.

Then the policeman looked around. His blood pressure rose and a tick started in his left eye. He reached for the radio.

"Glitch."

"Oh good, you made it! Now..."

"_Glitch_," he repeated, ice leaking into his voice.

"Uh, yeah?"

"_What the hell did you do to my cruiser?"_ Gulch shouted into _his_ radio while looking at _his_ gearshift and what was most likely _his_ steering wheel.

"..."

"I said you could study my car. _Study._ I did not say you could use it for spare parts!"

"I was planning on putting them back; it's just that I didn't have anything better on hand to use in order to get it done to show DG today."

Of course, it would be that. All trouble did lead back to DG, however remotely.

"Just tell me how to get to the surface, Zipperhead."

Fifteen minutes and a mostly uneventful (save the minor glitch that almost crashed them into the docks) ride later, Officer Gulch and Princess Azkadellia were worshipping the open air. The policeman was just wondering why trouble only ever happened to him when the eldest princess retrieved the younger and her Tin Man from their prison.

Wyatt Cain's hat was dripping a waterfall over his already soaked clothing. His duster was wrapped around DG in what had turned out to be an unsuccessful attempt to keep her warm and dry. They were all but glued together in their attempt to preserve body heat.

"Az-z-z, h-how d-do y-ou ch-change th-th-the w-weather in-n-n y-your p-prison-n-n?" DG's teeth chattered out.

"Oh dear," said Glitch.

Four pairs of furious eyes turned his way.

"You have until I get her somewhere warm," Cain ground out.

"Oh he doesn't have that long," countered Azkadellia.

"I have a gun right here," offered Gulch.

Glitch ran for it.

"Come on, Princess," the Tin Man said, leading/carrying DG towards Finaqua Palace, "let's get you warm."

"You know," Officer Gulch said to Princess Azkadellia, "you really should get something to eat."

A vote was taken over hot soup and blankets and in the end the decision was made that Cain would deal with the headcase. DG assured the group that the Tin Man was masterful in his delivery of retribution. Everyone else settled in to compare their afternoons.

Sometime later Gulch had the happy thought to bring a little light to everyone's day. Waving to Glitch as he passed the tree the headcase was currently suspended in, he had to agree with DG. A phobia for a phobia, perfect. Borrowing a truck – his cruiser being currently inoperable – he drove to the nearest village in search of the perfect beer.

Unloading his haul some half an hour later, he felt exceedingly pleased with himself. Not only would this lighten the mood, but he had been involved in some bona fide princess rescuing today. He didn't care what his underlings thought of him, he could get it done.

Click.

He hadn't just heard that sound. It was just his mind playing tricks on him, right? Right? Looking down at his hands he discovered that his right wrist was currently handcuffed...to his left wrist. Well that wasn't particularly exciting. Glancing back up, he discovered that the Tin Man had performed his appearing from nowhere trick.

"Did you forget something?" Cain asked, smiling at some inside joke.

Staring at him in puzzlement, Gulch hadn't a clue what the man was talking about. Then his gaze shifted to the flustered looking individual standing behind the Tin Man. _Oh._

It had been so long since Officer Gulch had bought a drink for himself, it hadn't even occurred to him to pay.


	6. Hell Hath No Fury

_Disclaimer: Do not own, sigh._

_Author's Note: I'm glad you all liked the last chapter so much – reading your reviews was like watching the highlight reel, I love it. Just out of curiosity, to those whose reviews I have replied to, have you actually received them? I have said somewhere before that I am a technological idiot so I'm not sure I'm going about the replies right. I'd hate to leave your questions unanswered._

_PS Gulch added another chapter to my brain last night._

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Officer Gulch was coming to the conclusion that his true and eternal nemesis was all things bearing the title 'princess'. It was a very valid observation, he thought. Wyatt why-are-you-even-trying-to-compete-with-me Cain was once up for consideration but at this moment the policeman could feel nothing but a strong sense of comradeship for the man – they were both in the same boat after all. Glitch had, after that fiasco with the submarine two weeks ago, been a very strong contender, now he wasn't even close. The most glitching, invention from hell, forgot to use both halves of my brain day could not compare with the two princesses of the O.Z. on a bender.

Personally, the cop really couldn't figure out how they had arrived at this present situation. The past two weeks had been almost as peaceful as the month of no DG that had preceded it. Glitch had hung out in his tree, Cain and DG had magically gotten over whatever had been bothering them since the Northern Island, and Princess Azkadellia had continued to make his job simpler by being extremely easy locate. Generally he only had to look left or right. It had been utterly perfect...well, ok, there had been the _slight_ complication involving a charge of petty theft.

The policeman had been so close to regaining the respect of his underlings, too. The eldest princess' tales of Gulch's deeds of daring-do had pretty nearly convinced even the most sceptic guard that the Kansas cop was a competent fellow, then he'd blown it all by forgetting one generally had to pay for their beer. Didn't really help against the insinuations of senility. Sigh. His only excuse was that it had been a very, very long and tiring day.

It helped in beating criminal charges when you had a Tin Man and two princesses on your side, however. The policeman had morally objected to what he perceived as a blatant misuse of power but by that time his accuser had been so cowed by Princess Azkadellia that he couldn't have been convinced to bring charges if Gulch had stolen his entire tavern. Cain might have a glare that suggested looks could kill, but Azkadellia had one that actually did. At least that's what he'd been told. Besides by the time the barkeeper had been regaled by three tellings of the day's events he was so much in sympathy with Officer Gulch he offered him the beer as a gift.

Chasing the princesses through the streets of Central City two weeks later, the cop figured he should have seen this coming. It had been too darn quiet lately for some disaster not to have been on the horizon. He didn't even know how this one had started; one minute they'd been talking happily in his newly restored cruiser on the way to Central City, and the next the eldest princess had all but blasted her way out of the car and was determined to finish the trip on foot.

Ok, so maybe he had some idea how it started, though he still wasn't exactly sure why. He hadn't exactly meant to let slip that he once had a crush on DG's mother – not her mother the queen, her mother the robot (and hadn't _that_ been fun to learn) – but really it had been nothing. Just a very young man's fancy brought on when the grateful Emily had made him feel like Hercules for rescuing the then child DG from one of her many adventures. If it had lasted a month he'd be surprised and he'd pretty much forgotten the whole thing until it came leaping unexpectedly from his mouth in the middle of a round of Tales of the Otherside. What was the big deal?

The princesses seemed to have a different view of the matter. Princess Azkadellia had looked like the world was coming to an end while DG had looked frankly appalled. The Tin Man, meanwhile, sat through the entire debacle with the wary expression of a man who knows another male has just stepped in it and is hoping not to get caught in the backlash. In a way he had, however, as he was then obliged to walk the rest of the way to Central City as the younger sister had followed the elder and neither was willing to get back in the cruiser creeping along behind them.

They'd reached the Palace eventually, only to have the princesses disappear on them a few short hours later. Gulch felt very sorry for the messenger who had brought them the news that the sisters were at large in the city and apparently addressing their emotional issues by getting loaded, Cain had not been happy about that information.

In fact, the Tin Man had been downright livid to learn that DG was drinking, not to mention beside himself with worry over what she might get up to while under the influence. The cop could sympathize with that, he had vivid memories of dealing with an underage drunken DG back in Kansas. One of them had ended with him spending the night hanging from a water tower by his utility belt. She was trouble when she was sober, but she was an absolute _menace_ drunk.

What surprised him, though, were all the reports pointing to the fact that Princess _Azkadellia_ was drinking, too. Since he spent most of his time stone sober because his charge was dead set against all mind altering substances, this was more than a shock, it was the end of the world as he knew it. Not that he knew it particularly well in the first place. He almost didn't believe it, but the patrons of all three bars they'd traced the duo through thus far confirmed it. Princess Azkadellia was not just drinking, she was swilling beer as if to out drink DG herself. _No one_ out drank DG when she put her mind to it as far as Gulch knew.

Barging into the fourth bar of the night, the two men were relieved to see they'd at last ran their quarry to earth. Sadly, it was not for long.

"_You!_" the princesses had cried with simultaneous venom as they caught sight of the cop.

And then DG had added, "Get'im Glitch."

_Glitch?_

Officer Gulch would deny later reports that he had screamed like a little girl when he dived behind a table for cover. Not even the Tin Man would have blamed him if he had, however. In what little time he had for thinking, Gulch mentally demanded who had thought it was a good idea to throw alcohol on top of the royal advisor's already damaged synapses. Ambrose, at least, should have known better. No help for it now.

"Rhythm!" Glitch bellowed in a great war cry and flung himself at the policeman.

Tables became kindling as Gulch dodged about the room trying to avoid Killer Kung Fu Mode Glitch. This was far worse than when he had been set off at the ball months ago - with all the distractions in the world, the Tin Man couldn't get near the headcase. Many a bystander got caught up in the fray and the drunken princesses had escaped once more. Glitch wasn't letting anyone else leave, either.

This last is probably what triggered Wyatt must-know-where-DG-is-at-all-times Cain in turn. All the Tin Man knew was that his princess was out of sight, extremely drunk, and getting closer and closer to Sin Square with every bar she hopped. Thwarted in his attempts to get by the zipperhead and back in pursuit of his fugitive, Cain had himself a bona fide pick-up-a-car-with-one-hand adrenaline rush. Or in this case, a solid oak table, which he hurled across the bar to send Glitch crashing into the wall, down for the count.

"You," Cain said fiercely, pointing to an off-duty tin man he recognized, "make sure he gets back to the palace. Gulch, move your ass." And the Tin Man was back on the hunt.

Dashing down one street, through an alley, and up another in the general direction of the next nearest bar in the area, the lawmen caught sight of the princesses once more, running as fast as the extremely drunk can. It really should have been over then, the men were not only sober but faster runners as well, unfortunately they did not have the ability to create magical obstructions like the princesses had. Officer Gulch, of course, caught the worst of it, seeing as he was the actual target of their rage. Cain, though, now seen as an accomplice, did take a fair share of hits from the various crates, barrels, bits of refuse, and magic light the princesses chose to throw at them.

Determined and, in Cain's case, mad as hell, however, the two men managed to make up enough ground that they finally cornered the princesses in their fifth bar of the night.

"Alright, Princesses, that's enough," the Tin Man began sternly.

For what was probably the first time since they'd met him, the princesses completely ignored Cain. Turning around they clasped hands and focused on Officer Gulch.

"_Asho',_" they said in unison.

"What did I do?" the cop asked in exasperation. How could one stupid little story deserve all this?

DG's eyes narrowed. "You 'ave to _ashk_?" she hissed.

"Yes," Gulch snapped back, "because I have no idea and I am frankly tired of getting pounded on because you two decided to get all hor..."

"Gulch!" Cain warned desperately.

"...monal on me over nothing."

Too late. Every man in the bar cringed away as the princesses positively growled in anger. Sparks shooting from their eyes was an expression on the Otherside, in the O.Z. that night it was a reality. The sisters rocked forward menacingly.

"Tha's it!" cried DG, "I'ma suckin' out 'is shoul."

"You canna 'ave 'is shoul," Azkadellia snarled, "is mine. You ca' shuck ou' Cain's."

"I'ma no' shuckin' ou' Cain's shoul," DG fired back, instantly diverted, "I like't inna'ts 'riginal packagin'."

"You shayin' 'ere's shometin' wrong wif Gulsch's package?" her sister demanded indignantly.

Mystified by the sudden turn of events, Officer Gulch went beat red at the slightly different connotations of the eldest princess' sentence. Fortunately the only one to understand the Otherside slang was DG.

"I woul'n kno'," she returned slyly.

"Look Princess, Princesses," Gulch said shifting forward, ignoring the Tin Man's attempts to hush him, "I don't know what I did or said to make you angry but..."

Eyes narrowing, hands glowing, the sisters' attention snapped back to the source of their ire.

"Course 'e don' kno'," the eldest muttered bitterly, "Nee'sit shpelled ou' for'im."

"Wif'a dickshionary... anna map," the youngest added.

"Okaaay," the cop said, stepping forward again, "why don't you..."

He was interrupted by a sudden blast when he got too close to the sisters' light. Seeing as they were mad at Gulch specifically, half-formed 'get Gulch' spells had been laced through the pearly white shield forming about them. Cain had been trying to warn him. Blown across the room, the cop collided with the bar and landed sprawled awkwardly on one of the stools.

"Yesh!" crowed DG, holding her hands up in a victory celebration.

It was the opportunity the Tin Man had been waiting for. The second DG's hand broke contact with her sister's Cain dove forward in a running tackle. Shoulders contacting their stomachs, an arm hooking around each of their knees, he used his momentum to heft them both over his shoulders.

"Ooof," gasped Azkadellia.

"Wheeee!" exclaimed DG.

"Wha's hap'nin'?"

"Magi'al Cain ride. Wheee!"

Across the room the stunned Gulch tried to right himself.

Click.

_Huh?_ Glancing across the room to where Princess Azkadellia was glaring at him again, the cop wondered how she'd managed to do that from all the way over there. His left wrist was cuffed to his right ankle in a way that threaded them through the legs of the barstool. These, he noted belatedly, appeared to be nailed to the floor.

Craning around to look at the cop, the Tin Man sighed.

"Just let me get them back to the palace, Gulch. I'll try to sober up DG and get the keys out of her," Cain said, resigned.

"Don't you have the keys on you?" the policeman asked without much hope.

"I'm willing to bet I don't." And with that the Tin Man walked out of the bar, hauling the princesses with him.

After five minutes of shocked silence one of the patrons who'd been cowering into the corners of the room with the rest finally asked, "What was that all about?"

Sighing, Gulch replied with all the pertinent facts, "Princess Azkadellia is mad at me."

There were a few minutes of sympathetic murmurings then a flagon of Northern Ale appeared at his elbow. It was followed by a flute of Papay Spirits and a tankard of Munchkin Brew. Apparently the cop had muttered the magic words.

"Poor fellow," he heard someone whisper, "hasn't got long to live."

Officer Gulch, however, was learning to be philosophical about these things. He was bound to be stuck there in a rather awkward position for quite some time, but his drinking arm was loose and there was free alcohol right there. He might as well make the most of it.


	7. Apology's Hard

_Disclaimer: I don't own Tin Man. If you have a problem with that, well I'm the person who just passed you giggling incessantly. Don't worry I'm not insane...much._

_Author's Note: For those of you who worry that Officer Gulch is going to develop a drinking problem, well my sister's been afraid of that since chapter two. It's ok, though, I'm sure Azkadellia will keep him in line. For those of you wondering why Gulch would be so eager to be my muse when all I do is torture him, hehehe, last chapter was actually given to me by the princesses themselves – this chapter is that chapter's baby. Back before this was officially a story Gulch gave me what is, in theory, the final chapters and I think he has been working desperately to get there ever since. Muwheeheehee, I'm too evil._

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Officer Gulch had to wonder – though he cringed internally as he did so – if PMS lasted longer in the O.Z. than it did on the Otherside. It had been well over a week since the bar hopping sisters debacle and the eldest princess was still mad at him. The cop figured he wouldn't feel so bad if he had some company in the proverbial doghouse but the Tin Man had utterly failed to make DG join him there. Cain had obviously meant to, he'd been in a towering rage over the whole drunken episode, but one look at DG's wide, sorrowful blue eyes and slightly trembling lip and Wyatt worships-the-ground-she-walks-on Cain had deflated like a punctured balloon. Five minutes later the youngest princess was all smiles with her Tin Man wrapped round her little finger all over again.

Gulch figured it was one of the great mysteries of the universe why the two of them hadn't figured out their feelings for each other yet, it was so glaringly obvious. He was amazed at how thoroughly blind some people could be. On the other hand, the cop figured he should be glad. He wasn't sure if he could handle it at the moment if the affectionate DG and the doting Tin Man were to go all googly-eyed on him, misery preferred company after all and miserable he was. Princess Azkadellia was avoiding him.

Well maybe miserable was a bit too strong of a word, unhappy would do. The princess that had practically haunted his steps since his arrival in the O.Z. was suddenly nowhere to be found. Gulch, who didn't think himself a complete idiot where women were concerned, knew that an angry woman hell bent on making herself scarce was better left well enough alone; unfortunately there was the slight complication of him being her bodyguard. It was extremely difficult to protect someone who wouldn't let you near them, in the end the policeman had been forced to borrow a guard from DG's protection detail to fill in his shifts. The man had seemed ridiculously glad to have the opportunity to do some 'real' guarding. Meanwhile the rest of Princess Azkadellia's protection detail spent much of their time laughing about what 'Old Gulchy' had gone and done now. Not that any of them were exactly sure.

At first Officer Gulch was willing to let things slide, assuming the princess needed a little time to calm down and then all would be well. As one week had promised to turn into two, however, he realized that he was going to have to put some effort into fixing the situation. Unable to gain access to the eldest princess he tried talking to the youngest, sadly DG had merely heaved an exasperated sigh, threw her hands in the air, and marched off muttering about idiot men. A bit desperate, Gulch realized he was going to have to do what all men feared – he had to try to apologize to an angry woman when not entirely sure what he was apologizing for. Bloody dangerous minefield, that.

Of course, even that was easier said than done considering he doubted he'd even been in the same wing of the palace with the princess anytime in the past week. Lately she'd taken to barricading herself in her room. His subordinates had been perfectly polite but orders were orders and they feared the former sorceress more than they'd ever fear the cop so they weren't letting him through. Still, Gulch's father had always been fond of the saying where there's a will there's a way. On the other hand, there are ways and there are ways.

Gulch surveyed the tree before him doubtfully. It was certainly tall enough, and had branches in the right general direction of the window he was pretty sure was Azkadellia's, but it was also uncomfortably distant from the palace walls. Reaching his destination would require a rather longer commute via rickety limb than he was exactly comfortable with. Sighing, he wished he'd opted to cash in on his newly discovered source of free booze instead of risking hazardous journey to have dangerous conversation. Sadly he had been forced to leave this resource untapped for fear of angering the princess further. Her disapproval of mind altering substances had only been strengthened by the raging hangover he understood she'd awakened to the day after her bender. DG, of course, had been up and skipping about the palace as if she'd had the best night's sleep ever.

Well standing around wasn't going to get him anywhere. Straightening his shoulders, Officer Gulch stepped purposely forward and hauled himself into the tree.

Reaching a height level with the third story royal apartments turned out to be fairly easy. The old tree had limbs aplenty, conveniently spaced for the cop, and it seemed that climbing trees was like riding a bicycle – you never forgot how. Perched relatively securely in the crook of one particularly thick limb, Officer Gulch counted windows to locate Princess Azkadellia's and planned his line of approach. He had two options that seemed likely to get him close enough. Not liking the way the lower branch split and thinned toward the end, Gulch chose the upper path and proceeded to put himself out on a limb.

Crack.

_Oh you've got to be kidding me_, he thought in the brief moment he had before the world fell out from under him.

Fortunately for the cop, however, the universe seemed to like torturing him too much to let him die. Plummeting earthward, his foot caught in the previously despised branches of the lower limb, bringing his descent to a wrenching halt. Taking a moment to revel in his continued existence, Gulch wondered if he should be thanking the powers that be or cursing them.

Above him came the clattering of a window being hastily thrown open.

"Officer Gulch! _What are you doing?_" exclaimed the shocked voice of Princess Azkadellia herself.

"Apologizing," he responded, "or at least that was the plan."

"Apologizing? You know what for?" her voice seemed to be trying to bridge the gap between amusement and accusation.

Wondering if he dare risk craning around to look at her he replied, "Not sure, I was hoping you'd tell me, but since I'm facing imminent death here I don't suppose it matters anymore." He could swear he heard her chuckle then he let out a shriek as he began to fall once more.

It was a very small shriek and the policeman realized he wasn't falling so much as shrinking. A hand wave and a whoosh later, Officer Gulch landed fully grown on a comfortable bed. Princess Azkadellia's bed to be exact. He was on the _bed_ of the _princess_. The _bed_ beneath him belonged to the princess. He was on the _princess'_ bed. No matter how he put it he was sure it was a bad thing. Best get off now.

In a blind panic, the cop flung himself off the _princess' bed_ and tried to make a dash for the door. Unfortunately he only got three steps before his left leg collapsed beneath him, ankle and knee screaming in pain.

"Officer?" asked the princess in alarm.

The policeman didn't reply as he was otherwise occupied.

"_Motherfu...dginghalfbakedmonkeyba...lloonsco...ckadoodledandy'sgoatpaddock,_" he, almost, swore.

"What's wrong? Did you hurt yourself?"

"_Sonofabi...ddybanker'srighttest...imony_ yes," Gulch finally managed to respond.

"Oh dear," the princess sighed then she waved her hand and the cop found himself shrinking and flying across the room once more.

He landed on the bed. The _princess' bed_. The _bed_ that belonged to the princess. The...

Click.

_No_. Fearful eyes rolled up to see his right wrist now handcuffed to the bed. He was _handcuffed_ to the _bed_. The _princess' bed_. The _bed_ belonging to the _princess_ was now attached to his arm via _handcuffs_. He was...

"There," said Princess Azkadellia, tucking a pillow under his wounded knee, "that will make sure you stay put until I can find Raw and have him take care of your leg. Stay still," she ordered then walked out of the room leaving him handcuffed to her bed. The _bed_ of the _princess._..

Fifteen minutes later Officer Gulch had calmed down enough to take stock of his situation. Which was not good if he did say so himself. He was Princess Azkadellia's chief bodyguard and she'd handcuffed him to her bed before running off somewhere unknown. All he needed now to make the situation worse was...

...a knock, a turning handle, and an opening door.

"Azkadellia, I was wondering if..." Ahamo broke off abruptly as he caught site of the policeman chained to the bed. The police_man_ chained to his _daughter's bed_. The _bed_ of his _little girl..._

For a moment both men froze as their respective worlds fell into chaos. Gulch's thoughts by this point had degraded to a horrified, incoherent repetition of_ bed, princess, handcuffs, Ahamo_. The Consort didn't seem to be fairing much better.

"Uh...help?" the cop managed at last. He didn't know what he was trying to achieve but it was his only functional idea.

Ahamo's brows shot up in confused astonishment.

_Good,_ thought Gulch, _keep him confused. If he's confused he can't..._

The Consort's eyebrows came back together, his brow furrowing.

..._get angry. Damn._

"Daddy," the innocent, did-not-just-chain-a-man-to-my-bed voice of Princess Azkadellia interrupted the developing confrontation, "have you seen Raw? I need...what are you doing? Lie back down this instant!"

Officer Gulch, in the midst of struggling to his feet in order to defend himself should Ahamo eventually manage to work his way up to Outraged Father Mode, froze helplessly.

"I mean it! Get your butt back down on the bed. Daddy, do you know where Raw is? Officer Gulch hurt himself trying to climb in my window."

"Climb..._window!_" Ahamo's voice jumped an octave.

Gulch prepared for imminent castration.

"Yes, but he fell. Now about Raw..."

"_You!_" yelled Ahamo, achieving Enraged Father Mode at last. He flung himself at the policeman.

"Daddy, no!" cried Azkadellia, finally distracted enough from her Find Raw mindset to take real notice of the situation.

Ahamo, naturally, paid no heed. Gulch tried desperately to escape but the handcuffs gave him no place to go. The Consort landed heavily on the cop's wounded leg and Gulch, bellowing in pain, struck out at him instinctively. The fight was on.

"STOP IT!" the eldest princess shrieked then Ahamo found himself flung magically across the room. Taking a defensive stance in front of her policeman, Azkadellia continued in a voice eerily reminiscent of the sorceress, "No, Daddy. You do _not_ attack Gulch. This is a misunderstanding. Officer Gulch merely wished to apologize for an incident I'm sure you are well aware of. Since I had made it impossible for him to reach me by regular means he chose the next..." She eyed the window dubiously, "...logical choice. Now. Where. Is. Raw?"

Officer Gulch recalled thinking some time ago that it was wise not to interfere with a woman intent on nursing a person. Ahamo seemed blessed with this same knowledge. Picking himself up from the floor, the Consort cast a wary glance at his daughter, a confused one at the policeman, and fled the room to fulfill his new obligation.

"Now," said Princess Azkadellia, turning back towards the cop, "tell me about Emily..."

Swallowing hard, Gulch wished he'd chosen the free alcohol option after all.


	8. Gone Fishin'

_Disclaimer: I disclaim! There, now you go figure that out._

_Author's Note: Okeydokey peeps, you may have to be patient for a bit. The next handful of chapters were handed to me as single scenes or half-formed ideas, they are going to need some work before they come into being. This might take a while. On the other hand, I might end up cackling my way to class (I've been doing that a lot recently) and find I have the next one ready to go. We shall see._

_PS I think I've reached full chapter count at last. Course, said count hasn't stayed steady for more than 24 hours at a stretch, but for now we have six chapters and an epilogue to go._

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Officer Gulch was feeling pretty good at the moment. It had been three days since the apology that never actually happened and, despite the utter catastrophe the attempt had entailed, Princess Azkadellia was no longer mad at him. Nor had there been any retribution from Ahamo, apparently the eldest princess had laid down the law where any plans of officer castration were concerned. The Consort would not admit it, but Gulch had the feeling the man was just a little bit afraid of his little girl. The cop couldn't blame him; the princess could be a right Fury when she chose to be. Fortunately the Fury was on his side, at least for the moment.

Another happy result of the whole debacle was that Raw, upon healing his leg – which had hurt like the blazes, by the way – had declared the cop would have to take it easy for a couple weeks to completely recover. It was amazing how what on the Otherside would have resulted in permanent ligament damage meant a vacation in the O.Z. Sure, the viewer's idea of physical therapy was utterly bizarre but the rest of the time was pure bliss. Not only had the princesses and respective bodyguards relocated to Finaqua for Gulch's convalescence, but DG had finally convinced her sister that occasionally a man needs at least a little time to himself. As a result Officer Gulch was able to enjoy a hobby he hadn't had the chance to in a long time: he was going fishing.

Borrowing a rod and tackle had turned out to be easy enough. Amused as they were by Old Gulchy's latest fiasco, his subordinates were not heartless. There was not a man among them that could not imagine the horror of being caught in a lady's bed by her father. They'd even kept the tree comments to a minimum while one of them had retrieved the requested fishing gear. Thus it was that Gulch found himself quite comfortably laid out on the grass beside Finaqua Lake early that fine morning, fishing pole in hand, enjoying a bit of solitude.

Rustle, rustle, rustle.

Sigh.

"Hey Gulch," said a voice that wasn't the one he was expecting.

"Oh, morning DG," he replied, glancing up absently. Then he did a double take. "You aren't planning on going swimming are you?" he asked in alarm. Another part of his brain noted that he'd never taken DG for a bikini girl.

"Afraid you'll have to play lifeguard?" DG asked archly.

The policeman snorted, "Everyone in Kansas knows you can out swim a dolphin, I just don't want you to scare the fish."

"Have no fears, oh Wounded One, I have no intention in interfering in your manly pursuit, I only wanted to catch some rays and thought a little companionable silence would be nice."

"Where's Cain?" he asked, surprised by the man's absence.

"Torturing a newbie that wants to join one of the royal protection details," she replied, "I am currently in lessons with Tutor."

Brow furrowing, Gulch had to inquire, "Is he giving you a demonstration of invisibility?"

"He's sleeping," grimacing slightly she added, "involuntarily." In response to the cop's expression she hurriedly explained, "It was an accident! Raw says he'll be fine but should be allowed to rest, so I figured I'd take the morning off."

"Safer for everyone," the policeman agreed. The Tin Man wouldn't be happy that his princess had wandered off, but at least she'd decided to hang out with another bodyguard. Gulch hoped that would count for something when Cain started storming about. "Well as long as you don't scare the fish."

"Why thank you, kind sir," she responded with amused sarcasm, settling down beside him. "You know," she said after a minute, "have you considered the possibility that there is a good chance the fish will be able to talk to you when you catch them?"

"If any fish ask me to, I shall throw them back," the Otherside cop said urbanely.

Chuckling quietly DG closed her eyes, "If I fall asleep roll me over in fifteen minutes."

"Will do."

Sitting there waiting for the fish to bite, Officer Gulch had to admit that this was pretty nice. When she wasn't making his life hell DG made for a decent companion. Settling back on an elbow the cop just let himself enjoy his surroundings: the rustle of wind blowing through the leaves, the splash of a fish jumping in the lake, the metallic click of a hammer being drawn back...wait. Keeping as still possible, Gulch rolled his eyes around in the direction of that last sound. _Oh, hello Mr. Revolver, haven't seen you in a while._

"What. Are. You. Doing?" the Tin Man growled.

For a moment the cop was going to reply with 'What does it look like? Don't scare the fish' when his survival instincts hijacked his tongue and presented him with the situation from another perspective. He was alone, in a secluded spot, with a princess that was not only not where she was supposed to be but was also practically naked as well. Not to mention Cain was probably fairly incensed _before_ he found them.

"Um," he tried. It occurred to Gulch that every other time the Tin Man had pointed a gun at him DG had come to his rescue. What was keeping her now? Risking a glance to his right he discovered that she had fallen asleep. _Oh come on!_ Discarding the notion of poking her – Cain would probably shoot his hand off – he hissed, "DG!"

The princess groaned then muttered, "Five more minutes."

"_DG!_"

"Huh, wha? Whossit? Oh hi Cain," she said, waking up at last, "found me did you?" Noticing the revolver she added, "What has Gulch done now?"

"What have _I_ done?" he exclaimed indignantly.

"Do tell," the irate Tin Man interjected, apparently tired of being ignored.

"What are you _doing_ Cain?" another voice interrupted.

Officer Gulch closed his eyes in pained disbelief. He had just gotten out of the doghouse, too.

"How dare you point a gun at...DG?" Princess Azkadellia's scold suddenly shifted tracks as she caught sight of her sister. Paling, she stuttered, "What...?"

Besieged on all sides, Gulch was relieved to see that DG had finally gotten with the program. He did wish that she had picked a better reaction, though.

DG burst out laughing.

"It's...it's not what it l-looks like," she managed between whoops.

The policeman noted that while the eldest princess was now looking extremely confused the Tin Man was looking no less stern.

Sitting up, DG continued, "Oh put the gun away Cain. Officer Gulch only came out here to fish. Since I ended up having the morning off I thought I'd do a little sunbathing. As the two activities are not mutually exclusive and I felt like some company, Gulch was kind enough to let me join him while you were otherwise occupied."

The gun, the cop noted, was still pointed at his head.

Sighing, DG got up and went to the Tin Man's side. Placing her hand on the gun she finally got him to lower it. The man seemed to be having trouble focusing.

"DG, what are you _wearing_?" her sister asked in a strangled voice.

"A bathing suit," DG replied. _Fwump_. "And now, apparently, a duster," she added drily as Cain settled said article of clothing about her shoulders. "What do you use for swimming in the O.Z.?"

"I don't know how to swim," the eldest princess replied, "I don't know any women that can."

Gulch remembered vaguely that there had also been a time on the Otherside when women couldn't swim. In fact, they were accused of witchcraft if they tried.

"That's just stupid," DG asserted, "You know what, I can teach you. It's best for everyone to know how to swim well enough not to drown. This is the O.Z., who knows when you might have to jump off a cliff into a raging river, right? We should go to the Otherside and get you a suit. They're not all like this, you can decide what you liked best," she continued, opening the jacket to give her sister another look.

Cain choked and reached forward to start doing up the buttons.

DG rolled her eyes in affectionate exasperation. "So what do you think?" she asked her sister.

The eldest princess seemed to be weighing the pros and cons. "Yes," she said at last, "I'd like that."

"Yay!" crowed DG, "Otherside shopping trip."

Eyes bugging in alarm, Gulch turned his attention desperately back to his fishing rod.

Click.

Not even bothering to look up, the cop commented, "You know, Cain, if you go walking all over Kansas with DG cuffed to your wrist people are either going to think she is under arrest or you have some sort of kink going on."

Glancing up idly he noticed that both Tin Man and crown princess were now bright red. Cain was also fingering his gun.

"Of course," he added hastily, "if you hold hands the whole time I don't suppose anyone will notice."

Now DG looked like she wanted to kiss him. He really hoped she wouldn't, though; he'd already had enough quality time with Mr. Revolver today.

"Are you coming?" Princess Azkadellia asked him.

Gulch panicked. Did he want to go clothes shopping or, worse still, bathing suit hunting with a couple of princesses capable of shrinking him and throwing him around? _No_. Was he dumb enough to put himself in the position of having to answer the inevitable impossible-to-answer-correctly questions? _Definitely not._

"Um," he said hastily, "I think it would be best for my leg to stay here and rest. Walking around on all that concrete can't be good for it."

Cain, one time married man, looked like he knew what Gulch was up to. Fortunately the Tin Man was noble enough not to call the cop on it.

"I've got it," he said, resigned. He'd already handcuffed himself to DG after all, couldn't have her wandering.

Watching them walk back to the palace Gulch wondered if the Tin Man had realized DG still needed to get dressed. Shrugging his shoulders he turned his attention to discovering whether there were any fish that hadn't been scared away by the commotion.

A few hours later it occurred to the lawman that he should have asked DG to pick him up a case of beer. Fishing just wasn't the same without a can or six of Bud while he waited. Actually, he was beginning to wonder if DG had been right about intelligent talking fish, he hadn't had so much as a nibble all day. Even on his worst day back in Kansas he would have caught something by now.

Letting his thoughts roam idly, he wondered what the people back in his home town thought of his sudden disappearance. Probably that he'd driven into that tornado on purpose chasing after the ghost of DG. Gulch snorted. Ironically, they would be more than half right, just the details were a bit skewed.

The cop jumped in surprise as the Tin Man suddenly materialized from nowhere and parked himself beside him.

"Where are the princesses?"

Cain grimaced. "Getting dressed for their first swimming lesson," he replied unhappily, pulling bits of paper from his pocket. "What are these?" he asked, going back for another handful, "DG wouldn't tell me, just kept laughing."

Looking at all the scribbled phone numbers, Gulch thought bitterly that it was so like the Tin Man to be able to get away with women shoving their numbers in his pockets without getting in trouble. Of course, DG did know that they would soon be going back to the O.Z. so maybe she didn't see it as a real threat. Not to mention Cain was probably itching to shoot them all the whole time. They might be dangerous.

"Nothing important," he began but he had lost the Tin Man's attention.

Turning around, he decided he didn't blame Cain. Bikini clad babe carrying beer was any man's favourite vision, though in this case it was healthier to focus on the beer. Unless your name was Wyatt DG-belongs-to-me-but-I'm-not-going-admit-it-I'll-just-shoot-my-rivals Cain that is.

"Here Gulch," DG said as she reached them, "I remember the men at the diner saying that beer was essential for fishing. We also stopped by your house and grabbed a few of your things."

Jumping up to accept the case of beer, the policeman noticed the eldest princes approaching nervously, wrapped in a dress robe.

Turning back to her sister, DG commanded, "Alright, Az, lose the robe, it's time for Swimming 101."

Blushing furiously the eldest princess hesitated.

"Az!"

Azkadellia dropped her robe, Officer Gulch dropped the beer.

_That is...that is..._mental processes froze as his police sensitivity training got up and started arresting thoughts. There was something he had wanted. _Tall drink of water?_ No, that wasn't it. Finally managing to tear his eyes away from the bounty – no, not bounty, not bounty! – before him he glanced briefly down at his free beer of the day. Strange, it was unopened. Meaning he hadn't had any, so why was he feeling slightly drunk?

"See Az," he thought he heard DG say smugly, "I told you I'd teach you how to fish."


	9. Gifts

_Disclaimer: You own what you own, I own what I own, and we agree that we each don't own what the other does own._

_Author's Note: OK, I lied. I didn't realize how well developed this chapter already was in my brain. Not surprising really, I've been dying to write it since I first envisioned the main scene. Yeah, this chapter's my fault. The next one really is going to take time, though._

_Author's Note 2: I would like to thank KLCtheBookWorm for having those highly convenient maps of the O.Z. on hand. It occurred to me while writing this that while I have not read the books others have and might object to me making up geography. I needed a place for my villain to be from and I apologize if the Great Kells happens to hold nothing but friendly people. If so, please consider my Lord Asshole to be the second cousin twice removed they never talk about because he's such a jerk._

* * *

...

* * *

Officer Gulch was a dead man. Personally he was feeling a bit betrayed that no one had done anything to prevent his getting in this situation. You'd think DG at least would have warned him. Or Cain. Surely this fell under the bounds of brothers in arms. But no, they'd let him continue his days in woeful ignorance and now there was no way to avert disaster. It was Princess Azkadellia's birthday and Gulch didn't have a gift.

Of course, one might have thought that the policeman would have noticed the more than usual chaotic and purposeful activity that had consumed Finaqua Palace in preparation for the eldest princess' birthday celebration. Sadly, the cop was of the opinion that the royal court was always in preparation for some ceremony of pomp and circumstance or other and had therefore failed to enquire as to the occasion. Instead, possessed of an ironclad excuse to escape, he had spent the majority of the past two weeks stretched out by the lake fishing.

Not that he ever caught anything. Though this was likely due to the princesses' habit of showing up after a couple hours, Tin Man in tow, for Princess Azkadellia's swimming lessons. The fish had undoubtedly been scared away from Gulch's secluded fishing hole, perhaps permanently. Avid fisherman that he'd once been, no one heard a complaint about it. The sisters had a wonderful effect on the scenery after all, and as long as the cop kept his eyes on the princess he was charged with guarding, he could enjoy the new perks of his job in peace.

When not studying nature, Officer Gulch amused himself with covert glances at Cain's face. The man was obviously torn between appreciating the view and running after DG with his duster. Ah, the difficulties of conflicting social mores, Gulch was glad he didn't have that problem. He'd noticed that no one else ever seemed to stumble upon these interludes and he had the shrewd notion that Wyatt instincts-at-war Cain had warned both protection details, if not the entire palace staff, to stay the hell away.

That is not to say that the policeman wasn't experiencing some cognitive dissonance of his own. His police sensitivity training and professional ethics did attempt to lecture him on the subject of ogling his charge. The strictures went something something morals something something bodyguard, unfortunately before they really got anywhere the eldest princess would walk by in her suit causing him to drop the chain of thought and, usually, anything he was holding.

So it was that Gulch had managed to remain ignorant of the true nature of the impending event until it was too late for him to do anything about it.

"I'm sorry Gulch, I didn't realize" DG said when the cop took her to the task for letting him step in it once more, "I've kind of gotten used to the people around here just knowing these things."

While her apology was sincere, the humour that lurked in her eyes did not go far towards mollifying the incensed cop. Sadly he could not go on berating her as Cain was likely to step in anytime now. The Tin Man had a habit for doling out painful lessons in manners to anyone he felt was treating DG with less than due respect. Lecturing the youngest princess was his privilege – that is if Cain could ever get through an entire scold before DG's wide blue eyes turned him to mush.

Sighing, the cop figured he would just have to face the music. At least he wouldn't have to participate in the elaborate ceremony about to take place. The whole thing reminded him of the opening scenes of Sleeping Beauty where all the fairies came forth to bestow the princess with their gifts, only insert every blasted lord in the O.Z. for fairies in this case. They probably had to announce every single one of them, too. It was going to take hours and he was going to have to stand behind Princess Azkadellia's chair for the whole damn thing. On the other hand, the longer the ritual took, the longer he had to live.

An eternity later, Officer Gulch was more than willing to shorten his life if it would make the tedium end. Oh look, Lady Feathered-One had gotten the princess yet another emerald necklace, and hey, Lord Potbelly had given her a pair of jewelled shoes. If she ever wore the ridiculous things she'd be begging someone to cut her feet off within half an hour. The line wasn't getting anywhere near short either. He wondered what the next noble, King of Slimy Smugness, had for her. Perhaps a canary that never shuts up?

"Lord Fastidium of the Great Kells," the herald announced.

"Gracious Queen, Consort, Princesses," the lord said florally while bowing elaborately to each member of the royal family in turn, "allow me to present this humble offering to her Royal Highness Princess Azkadellia on this, the day of her birth."

_Blah, blah, blah, _thought Gulch.

"I hope very much that the princess enjoys the rare gift I have brought her," the noble continued waving a basket laden servant forward. "It was only recently discovered on my lands and I understand that your Royal Highness is quite fond of them. In honour of your birth, Princess," he said and removed the cover.

It was a baby mobat. The entire assembly gasped in shock, Azkadellia went white as a sheet. DG grabbed her sister's hand hastily while the Queen and Consort hissed at the deliberate spite. The Tin Man's hand settled firmly on his revolver as he contemplated where to shoot the noble bastard. Officer Gulch...well the subtleties of the insult probably would have gone over the cop's head had he been paying any attention to the situation. He was a bit distracted at the moment, however.

"What is _that_?" he asked, forgetting himself so far as to step around the princess' chair to get a better view.

"This is a mobat," Lord Fastidium began maliciously.

"It is positively _adorable_," Gulch interrupted unheedingly, reaching out towards the small creature, "May I?"

The royal family vaguely wished they were currently in a mindset capable of appreciating the look of stupefied shock on Lord Asshole's face. The policeman, however, took the man's silence as acquiescence and scooped up the infant animal.

"Aren't you just the cutest thing," he cooed, looking positively delighted when the little mobat wrapped a tiny hand around his proffered finger. Glancing up, he finally noticed Lord Fastidium's astonishment. "What? I've always wanted a monkey," he said defensively.

"B-but mobats are evil," the lord stuttered.

"Nonsense," Gulch scoffed, "just because the only ones any of you know about were raised by a centuries old wicked witch? Animals are just like children, raise them to be vicious and that's what they'll be." Turning back to the baby mobat he murmured gently, "You're not evil are you? Don't listen to the mean man, he doesn't intend to be stupid, his education is merely lacking."

It took a while, but eventually the complete silence pervading the audience chamber reached Officer Gulch's consciousness. Ears burning scarlet, the cop suddenly realized a) he'd just interrupted Princess Azkadellia's gifting ceremony; b) he had just exposed his long hidden secret love of small furry animals; and c) he was baby-talking a winged monkey in front of the entire royal court of the O.Z.

"Do you want to keep it?" Princess Azkadellia asked, awed. Her face conveyed the oddest mix of emotions but her voice contained the slightest tremor of amusement.

The policeman blushed harder still. "Sorry," he muttered, "It's a gift for you. I didn't mean... that is I didn't intend...I'd be more than happy to help you care for the little guy," he finally managed to stutter out hopefully.

Azkadellia's lip twitched. "Very well," she intoned solemnly, "Thank you for your kind gift Lord Fastidium. It has pleased us well and shall not be forgotten."

The lord of the Great Kells, well versed in the nuances of courtly phrase, paled. Bowing stiffly to the royal family, he moved away in utter shock that his well planned insolence had fallen so terribly astray. _Who was that unmasked, oblivious man?_

The rest of the evening went by swiftly as the entire court was able to relieve their boredom whenever necessary by watching the bodyguard standing behind the eldest princess' chair fawn over the baby mobat. Gulch himself was so absorbed that it wasn't until the royal family retired to the royal apartments for a more informal celebration of Princess Azkadellia's birthday that he remembered he had been worried about something. In fact, he was pretty sure he recalled thinking that he'd made a fatal blunder.

"What are you going to call him?" he asked absently as his memory continued to niggle at him.

"Kansas," the princess replied.

"Kansas?" Gulch reiterated, surprised.

"Yes. Think of it as a sort of blessing. Kansas: a place of good things. Maybe it will help him be a good little mobat," Azkadellia said softly as she reached over to scratch the infant's head.

The princess had totally lost the Kansas policeman on that one. The cop knew from many long years on the force that Kansas had all sorts of bad things mixed in with the good. However, he let it slide. If Azkadellia wanted to name the mobat Kansas then Kansas it was. Setting little Kansas back in his basket Gulch finally remembered why he was in trouble.

"Um, Princess," he said, deciding to get it over with, "I, uh, didn't get you anything."

Princess Azkadellia looked at him in puzzlement.

"A gift, I didn't get you one. Sorry, I didn't know. I mean, I should have known, but I didn't and...and, yeah," he finally stuttered to a halt.

"Silly man," said the princess. She had the strangest smile on her face.

"I'll make it up to you," he said, hopeful of escaping retribution, "Is there anything in particular you want?"

"Oh I can think of something," Azkadellia said dreamily.

Click.

Officer Gulch looked down at his left wrist in utter bafflement.

"We are going out for my birthday," she informed him, "DG can babysit Kansas."

"Um, ok?" the cop said, still lost.

The eldest princess sighed; she knew he _still_ had no idea. Oh well, sometimes one must be patient.

"Come on, lawman," Azkadellia smiled, "drinks are on the Cain."

"But you don't drink. You're not drinking are you?" Gulch asked, slightly panicked. He was still waiting for the other shoe to drop and a replay of the Night of the Drunken Princesses would definitely qualify.

The princess in question laughed. "No, I don't drink, but you do. I think you deserve a few...but only a few," she added holding up a stern finger.

Well the policeman wasn't in a position to argue, and he certainly wasn't going to pass up this strange get out of jail free card.

Winking conspiratorially at her sister, Azkadellia skipped out on the rest of her birthday celebration taking her knight in blundering but shiny armour with her.


	10. Oblivious

_Disclaimer: I owneth this not._

_Author's Note: I said, and I quote, "the next one really is going to take time". That's what I said right? Right? I thought as much, so how did this happen? GULCH! I will admit, writing the last chapter did provide inspiration for where this one should go._

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...

* * *

Officer Gulch would admit that he hadn't been paying the strictest attention to the conversation. He considered it one of the advantages of being a bodyguard rather than a cop: it wasn't what people were saying that mattered so much as what they were doing. As long as no one was declaring their intention of murdering the entire royal family, Gulch felt free to tune them out in favour of attempting to teach sign language to Princess Azkadellia's new baby mobat Kansas.

That is not to say the policeman wasn't keeping at least some track of the present dialogue. Since his rather major gaffe of not knowing the princess' birthday, the cop had begun paying a bit more attention to the discussions going on around him lest some other insidious event try to catch him unawares. He still had no idea how he'd escaped the repercussions of not having a present on hand for his charge's birthday. Hell, he very much wanted to know why he'd been further treated to a night out at a local tavern (the proprietor of which had not only recognized them, but was also relieved to learn someone intended to pay). When Gulch had insisted on getting _something_ for the princess she had decided to claim his handcuffs as her gift. This was somewhat odd given that she had basically stolen them the day he arrived in the O.Z. – he never saw them when not being cuffed to something or someone – and, really, it kind of made him nervous. He hadn't considered himself in the position to argue, however.

This all being so, the cop kept half an ear open to the ongoing council session while he attempted to teach Kansas how to say hello. As far as he could tell, the topic of debate was the people's desire to hold a celebration on the anniversary of the Eclipse in honour of its heroes and the liberation of the O.Z. They had wanted to do so last year but the continuing trouble with the Longcoats had made it impossible. Thankfully that problem was all but taken care of at this point, so really, why not have a ball?

_Isn't that just great?_ Gulch thought, less than happy at the prospect.

He would have been even less happy – he'd be downright frightened actually – had he known that the eldest princess was sneaking covert glances in his direction, visions of strollers and baby booties dancing in her head every time she saw him with the mobat. Wyatt Cain, widower and father, knew that look well and mentally patted the policeman on the back in commiseration. Poor fellow had no idea how doomed he was.

The plans for the Heroes of the Eclipse Celebration and Ball were going on smoothly until one of the advisors had brought up a 'small' problem: they didn't think that Princess Azkadellia should attend.

"You have to understand, Your Majesties," the spokesman said plaintively, "that this will be an event in commemoration of not only the Heroes of the Eclipse, but also those that fought and died to end a war that, quite frankly, the eldest princess was on the other side of."

DG sat forward angrily, mouth opening to deliver blistering retort.

"Please don't misunderstand me," the buffoon insisted, holding up a hand to forestall her, "I mean no disrespect but the fact remains that Princess Azkadellia was the face of the sorceress and even now is seen as the enemy by much of the O.Z. Now that the truth is known, Princess DG herself only escapes censure...

The Tin Man, already angry at the advisors diatribe, snapped to attention, his hand falling to his gun. The idiot spokesman owed his continued existence to the fact that DG, already having made peace with her past, did not react negatively to the perceived accusation.

"...because she was not only very young at the time but she was the one that saved us in the end. And yes," he continued, cutting off DG's attempted heated interjection once more, "we all realize the eldest princess was also quite young when this all started, but the fact remains that the O.Z. saw her constantly since, and well into adulthood, working to destroy the O.Z. while serving as host to the true evil. Frankly, Your Majesties, we don't think it would be appropriate for her to be there when so many feel she is to blame."

A shocked, angry silence reigned in the council chamber. This, coming just three days after a pompous lord had endeavoured to deliver a backhanded insult at the Princess Azkadellia's birthday celebration, seemed almost a deliberate attack on the eldest princess.

"What I've always wondered," said Officer Gulch absently, making the 'hello' sign once more, "is who lets young children play in a bear infested forest containing prisons for deranged wicked witches."

The Queen and Consort paled. Several of the lords, formerly charged with advising on the education and care of the young princesses, suddenly looked chagrined.

"Especially considering one of those children was DG. I've known since the first time I pulled her out of Farmer Spencer's bullpen that she was a magnet for trouble. From what I've heard, she demonstrated this quality early on."

Since Cain could not deny this charge and as DG was starting to look amused, the cop remained unshot.

"For that matter," Gulch continued reflectively, "who puts a powerful evil being in a prison a five year old can unlock?"

Another contingent of advisors, who liked to claim as ancestor this or that individual who helped to conquer and/or imprison the witch in the first place, looked like they'd been forced to suck an entire bag of lemons.

"At the very least they could have made the magic words amount to something more than 'hey, I wonder what's back here'. Might as well of used 'Open Sesame', it's like locking Hannibal Lector up in a kiddy pen."

DG and Ahamo, the only ones to understand the Otherside references, choked back laughter.

"Y-yes, but..." one lord tried to interject, unfortunately Gulch was distracted by Kansas' close approximation of the hello gesture and so he went unheard.

"All things considered," Gulch mused on, switching to the sign for beautiful, "Princess Azkadellia has done remarkably well. Take the my word for it, any other child raised by a psychopath such as this witch you all talk about would be bathing in your blood and dancing in the fields wearing your spleen as a hat. Instead the princess somehow managed to grow into a caring, responsible individual who is not only hell bent on setting things right but also has the interests of the people very much at heart."

"Yes, but some people think..."

"My father always used to say, 'if you wait for everyone to agree with you you'll never get anything done'," the cop interrupted idly. "You know, I think Kansas is hungry," he said, losing all interest in the advisors.

"Perhaps you should get him something to eat," replied Azkadellia, lip twitching, face endeavouring to keep up with the myriad of emotions flying across it.

Officer Gulch hesitated; he was currently the eldest princess' acting bodyguard.

"I've got it," said Wyatt can-I-just-shoot-them-already Cain setting his gun on the table.

Nodding, the cop exited in search of baby mobat food.

"You know," Princess Azkadellia said when he was gone, "if he keeps doing that, one of these days I'm just going to have to jump him."

Glancing at her Tin Man, DG replied, "I know what you mean."

Meanwhile, Officer Gulch was wending his way through the halls of the palace on the way to the kitchen. It took some doing as Finaqua Palace was currently filled to capacity with nobility; the gathering provided by Princess Azkadellia's birthday had turned into what the policeman chose to think of as a political convention. Everywhere you looked groups of nobles, advisors and army commanders stood plotting, scheming, and occasionally brainstorming, some looking out for their own ends, others actually thinking how to help repair the O.Z. And through it all moved a country cop who'd never been forced to learn politics.

"I'm telling you," Gulch overheard one lord tell another, "that my boy would have a real chance at the Consortship if he'd just bestir himself. He spent most of the night with the Princess DG during that ball they held here, oh a year or so ago – you know, the one that bloody Tin Man went all Papay in a drought about – and who else could say as much?"

Surprised, the cop couldn't help but stop and listen. While this event must have taken place before he came to the O.Z. he really couldn't picture Wyatt hands-off-DG Cain allowing anyone, no matter how high ranked, to spend that much time in the youngest princess' company. Least not if they had any ideas of courting her.

"I keep telling him he should try taking her for a ride or something," the lord continued.

"I wouldn't do that," the policeman interrupted in the interest of preventing a future homicide, "unless you particularly want your son to be shot. Honestly, from what you just said it's amazing he's still alive, probably used up all the luck he has in this life in the process."

"And just who might you be, sir?" the lord demanded, outraged. Then, spying the mobat currently riding on Gulch's shoulder, he sneered, "Oh I see, Princess Azkadellia's bodyguard. I would thank you not to stick your nose into the concerns of your betters."

Officer Gulch, not having been raised to respect monarchies and their offal, frowned and decided to let Darwin do his work on this particular division of the gene pool. Turning his back on the idiot he returned to his original mission.

Fifteen minutes later, feeding Kansas what basically amounted to a warmed banana milk shake with tree leaves ground in, Gulch became the unwitting eavesdropper to a conversation between scullery maids. He really did his best not to listen, but the women had not only failed to notice his presence but had blocked the exit as well.

"Blah blah bravery blah blah Tin Man blah blah butt blah blah Cain," one was saying to the other, "You know, I think I'm going to ask him to go out for a drink with me."

The last sentence caught the lawman's attention. Wishing to save the girl some embarrassment and forgetting this was a conversation best kept out of, he said, "I wouldn't bother if I were you, the Tin Man's taken. I'd have thought that was obvious. Hell, I figured it out when I still lived on the Otherside and I'd only met the man twice."

The maids gasped in shock, then in outrage, and then they turned on him.

Escaping the scullery harpies eventually, Gulch was considering how to avoid future complications when he was waylaid by Tutor's voice.

"Officer Gulch," the kindly man called, "come over here, I'd like you to meet someone." When the cop complied he continued, "This is Lord Linster, Advisor of Transportation. Since I understand from DG that you specialized in highways on the Otherside, I thought you might be able to provide some insight into his Crack problems."

Astonished now, the policeman responded, "Well I never did work narcotics but I could probably put a team together. They had us take some courses at the academy that would likely be of use. How long has he been an addict? Would he be willing to roll on his suppliers and do you have any rehabilitation centers in the O.Z.?"

Tutor blinked, Lord Linster stared. Shaking his head slightly, Tutor smiled indulgently and said, "Remind me to give you some geography lessons sometime."

Dismissed, Gulch was about to head back to his post by the princess when Kansas yawned in his ear. Sighing, he altered course, might as well put the mobat to bed first.

He was nearing his destination when a friendly middle-aged lord, eager to brag, pulled him forcibly into a conversation about his latest trade agreement. The man seemed ridiculously impressed by his ingenuity of getting the Consort himself to help work out the deal with Ugabu to the mutual benefit of the crown and his barony. The lord actually believed himself to have received the most advantage out of the arrangement.

"Shouldn't think that," the cop said pensively, "the man was a carnie on the Otherside, probably swindled you out of your underwear when you weren't looking." Nodding politely, mindful of the sleepy baby mobat on his shoulder, Gulch moved on leaving the disillusioned lord gaping behind him.

Continuing through the madhouse, the policeman was starting to wonder if he would ever get anywhere as this or that conversation seemed determined to jump out and grab him. Asked for his opinion on what sounded like a proposed O.Z. version of Prohibition, the cop was firm in representing how that act on the Otherside had done nothing but increase crime and had been one of the dumbest ideas a politician had ever come up with. Attempting to work his way around a gathering of the Eastern Guild, he couldn't help but point out that the munchkins would probably get further in life if they actually listened to what a person was saying instead of insisting on working from preconceived notions. Cutting through another throng, he got in a loud argument with an ambassador who dared call Kansas a filthy beast. Words were said, threats were made, and Gulch finally just borrowed a page from Cain's operating manual and pulled a gun on the fellow. The man changed his tune.

Several discussions, debates, and confrontations later, beginning to miss the quiet, isolated confines that had been Glitch's submarine, the policeman finally made it to his chambers where, for some reason, Kansas' bed was kept. Setting the little mobat in the basket, he paused to have a fuzzywuzzy moment only to be interrupted by a commotion in the hall. Sighing, the Gulch went to go check it out – it was his duty as a man of the law.

"Officer Gulch?" a voice caused him to turn.

Click.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Gulch," the queen continued, as the cop inspected the handcuffs now attaching him to the heavy wardrobe, "you are a good man but you are a walking, talking, political, economic and domestic disaster. Not to say that what you did in the council chamber wasn't fantastic, much as the truth may hurt, but the rest of the chaos you left in your wake I could do without at the moment. If would do me the favour of staying put for a bit? Thank you. I'll have Az come let you free when we are done. Oh, and I'd stay out of the kitchens for a while if I were you."

Gulch watched the queen leave in mild bewilderment. What was he supposed to do now? At least she could have bought him a drink before chaining him to the furniture. Like mother, like daughter.


	11. Bar Fight

_Disclaimer: Ownership, by any other name, would still not be mine._

_Author's Note: Sorry if this offends anyone but I see no need to make up characters when those from canon are much more suited to the task._

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Officer Gulch had, in his fifteen years on the force, dealt with a lot of drunks. He understood that people under the influence often said or did things they wouldn't sober. It was a common occurrence for them to be properly ashamed or horrified over their drunken antics after they'd slept it off. He would not argue the fact that he, himself, had not been in the soberest condition, nor would he deny he'd been aware that Jeb Cain had had a considerable amount to drink. The cop knew, really he did, that young Jeb's childhood had been shattered by the actions of the Sorceress and her men, and that the core of the boy's developmental years had been spent amongst those hell bent on seeing her reign end. Truly, Gulch knew, realized, understood and accepted all this and more. Didn't change anything. Nobody, not even the Tin Man's son, got to talk like that about the princess.

The part of the policeman's brain that kept track of events leading up to these how-did-I-end-up-here situations pointed out that he really should have expected something like this to happen. The day had, after all, started with him being booted unceremoniously out of Central City Palace by an apologetically smiling Princess Azkadellia. Apparently there was some big political council in the works and he hadn't been allowed anywhere near one of those since the queen had handcuffed him to the furniture a couple weeks ago. It was a bit insulting really. Ok, he'd caused a little chaos – inadvertently – but from what he could tell the Consort had, like a true carnie, used the various distractions the cop had provided to arrange events in a manner that further benefitted both crown and kingdom. Did they really have to kick him out like an unruly child every time they wanted to have a grown up political talk?

Evidently they thought so, leaving Officer Gulch alone in a foreign city with nothing to do. In the end he'd decided to explore. The cop had been to Central City on more than one occasion but, due to his duties as bodyguard, had never really had the chance to check the place out. Unless you counted a whirlwind chase after drunken, enraged princesses as a kind of tour – he knew where the bars were at least. Not that he'd planned on ending up in the bar. Really.

The thing was, ever since the war with the Longcoats had been declared officially over a few days previously, there had been a lot of partying going on. Members of the former resistance, now royal army, were not required to pay for their drinks and, somehow, the policeman found himself being included amongst these privileged ranks. It could be because he was known to be somewhat friends with Tin Man Wyatt Cain and Princess DG, Heroes of the Eclipse. Or perhaps it was because he had been in a battle with the Longcoats – he'd held the basket while the princesses shrunk people. There was also the distinct possibility that the owner of the tavern was merely taking pity on the man he recognized as being the one who'd once spent half a night chained to his barstool. Personally, Officer Gulch figured it was simply that free alcohol just seemed to find him.

So all in all, after a day spent wandering the city, Gulch was having himself a pretty good evening. Not only was the beer free but a fair number of off-duty royal guards from the various protection details had shown up to join him. They might laugh at Old Gulchy, as every member in the guard now called him, but that did not mean they didn't like him. It had, in fact, been turning into quite a party.

Unfortunately, Jeb and a number of his resistance comrades had chosen to celebrate the war's end at the same tavern. Even worse, they took a table not too far distant from that of the cop turned bodyguard. It was inevitable really, given the circumstances and the company, that some unhappy references to the Sorceress and Princess Azkadellia be made. Gulch had, in fact, been hearing them all day, but as long as people kept it in the past tense he paid them no heed. From what he knew, the princess-possessing witch had been just as bad as they said. Jeb, however, wasn't speaking in terms of the past. Working on what the policeman judged to be the young man's second or third keg of the night, Jeb's voice had been getting steadily louder. At first his conversation merely astonished Gulch – along with the royal guard and, likely, the entire tavern – then he'd moved onto a diatribe about the eldest princess' mind, morals and presumed activities that left the her chief bodyguard seeing through a haze of various shades of red.

Next thing Gulch knew, he'd crossed the intervening space and sent the Tin Man's son crashing into his table with a solid blow to the jaw. The entire bar went dead quiet.

"Yur gonna take tha' back," the cop gritted out angrily, "All o' it."

Rising hastily, if a trifle unsteadily to his feet, Jeb growled back, "You gonna make me?"

"Yes."

A small part of Gulch's brain that was still capable of logical thought pointed out that it was a bit ridiculous of him to be starting a fight with a boy almost half his age. Another part chipped in that this particular boy would have the experience to make up the age difference. The cop may have received unarmed combat training but Jeb had been raised fighting for his life in the crucible of war, by all rights he should be able to hand the cop his ass back. As a finally addendum, the first part mentioned that the Tin Man was likely to take umbrage to this whole mess. Officer Gulch didn't really care; he launched himself at the boy.

Now it was not to be supposed that the resistance fighters were about to let some Othersider witch-princess guarding clown beat the crap out of their commander without having something to say about it. Given that Gulch was - despite logic's opinion on the matter - winning, a fair few of them thought it was time to intervene, one of them knocking the cop away with a sucker punch in the back.

And that, thought the royal guard members present, was just not on. Old Gulchy may be a bit of an in-house joke but he was _their_ in-house joke, dammit. Before Mr. Sucker Punch could get another shot in he found himself getting a taste of his own medicine. This, naturally, caused the rest of the resistance fighters to join the fray. It was instant bedlam.

The bar became a chaotic confusion of struggling bodies and crashing objects, yet through it all Officer Gulch never lost sight of Jeb Cain. He pursued the boy with a single-minded persistence that would be the envy of any cop. As far as Gulch was concerned, Jeb had some words to eat and he would do so if the policeman had to force-feed them each individually. By the time the tin men came to break up the brawl the cop was working his way through Jeb's second sentence.

It was somewhat strange for Officer Gulch to be on this side of a bar fight; usually he was the one breaking them up. He informed the tin man holding him of this once he had finally been hauled far enough away from Jeb to calm down some. In his inebriated state he was even kind enough to give the man some pointers on his technique. The tin man in question thanked him by throwing Gulch down in exactly the manner described and carting him off to jail. The cop commended him on his progress.

An hour later, by no means sober but a little more rational, Officer Gulch was able to appreciate the irony DG was no doubt enjoying from the other side of the bars.

"Cain here?" he asked, not entirely sure he wanted to know.

"He's talking to Jeb," DG grinned, "in _his_ jail cell."

Gulch winced, "And Az-Princess Azkadellia?"

Her grin widened, "Talking the tin men and tavern keeper into dropping the charges."

"How?" he asked surprised.

"Mostly she's glaring at them."

Gulch frowned.

"Don't worry Mr. Honest Cop, the damages will be paid for – probably out of your and Jeb's salaries. So, are you going to tell me what the fight was about?"

The policeman's jaw clamped shut and he glared as anger flared once more.

"I'll take that as a no."

"He's not talking either?" Cain asked, joining them.

"Not as yet. Jeb?" DG replied.

"Uncooperative," the Tin Man confirmed, "Gulch?"

The cop maintained his silence.

"Look Gulch, you've never given any indication you were a brawler which leads me to believe, since I understand you threw the first punch, that you were somehow provoked."

The lawmen traded steely glances. Officer Gulch wasn't budging. He was not repeating what Jeb Cain had said of the eldest princess. In his anger he was tempted to repeat what had been said of the_ younger_ princess, however. The boy may be the Tin Man's son but the cop would bet anything that that would not save him from Cain's wrath. Sadly, he had slightly too much honour to stoop so low.

"Words were said," Gulch replied at last.

"And?" prodded the Tin Man.

"And I won't repeat them," the cop stated.

Cain sighed. He had a shrewd idea, given the combatants, what the subject matter had been at least. That not a single person involved was willing to repeat his son's words spoke volumes.

"Let's just get them out of here," said DG, "we can work this out in the morning."

The meeting in the hall was tense. It was probably just as well the Tin Man had insisted the brawlers keep their clunky hand restraints as they no sooner set eyes on each other than they attempted to go for round two. Cain, holding them apart by a hand on each neck, was tempted to just crack their heads together and be done with it. Fortunately, they were interrupted.

"What did you do to his _face_?" shrieked Azkadellia.

"_His_ face," Jeb was heard to mutter for, indeed, while Gulch was sporting a split lip and what promised to be a spectacular black eye, it was a wonder Jeb could see at all. He had some great concerns for his teeth, too.

"Never mind that now," Cain said in exasperation, pulling Jeb protectively behind him while pushing Gulch into Azkadellia's path as a distraction, "Can we please just get them back to the palace?"

"What was this about anyhow?" the eldest princess asked, trying to examine her bodyguard's wounds.

Gulch's nostrils flared with anger, his head snapping around to glare at his opponent once more. Jeb's chin rose stubbornly and he shifted his stance aggressively.

"That's it!" the Tin Man said, having had enough, "New plan." Stepping forward he wrenched the locks off the restraints.

Gulch heaved a sigh of relief as the wood fell away; he'd been beginning to miss regular handcuffs.

Click.

_Wait a minute! He didn't mean_...

"You two," Cain said, "are staying here until you work whatever this is out. I don't care how. Beat the crap out each other if you want, just get it done. I'll be taking the princesses back now."

"But..."Azkadellia started to protest.

"Leave it, Az," advised DG. She'd made a few educated guesses of her own and thought it best to get her sister out of there. They followed Cain out into the night.

Officer Gulch looked down at his wrist dejectedly. He couldn't believe that Wyatt annoy-at-your-own-risk Cain had just chained him to Jeb, nemesis-in-consideration.

"This," said Jeb, "is your fault."

"You know," Gulch remarked, "you really are a substandard Cain. I suppose it's not your fault, you had to make do with inferior role models."

"Only because a certain princess made sure my father was unavailable for the task," the boy hissed.

"A certain princess was possessed at the time and not in control of her actions," the cop fired back.

"And that fixes things how?"

"You really ought to watch what you say about princesses," Gulch growled menacingly, "either of them."

Jeb paled and stuttered, "You wouldn't."

"Maybe I would," the cop threatened, though really he wouldn't. Did he want to be nearby when the Tin Man went ballistic at the news? Certainly not.

Lifting his chin defiantly, Jeb declared, "Go ahead, tell him, bring it on."

It was about this moment that the logically functioning part of Gulch's brain realized that maybe, just maybe, the two combatants were still in the belligerent state of drunkenness. Cain wouldn't let them go until they decided to make nice. That wasn't happening unless someone backed down. It was going to a very long night.

Jeb muttered something under his breath. Not quietly enough.

Officer Gulch reflected that a full out brawl while one was chained to their opponent would be exceedingly awkward. Didn't particularly care, though.


	12. Assassination

_Disclaimer: I do not own Tin Man, or Mystery Men, from which I swiped a quote. Don't you wish your brain stored school work as easily as it does useless tidbits of information?_

_Author's Note: There's some violence in this one – as might be expect from the title – hope that doesn't offend anyone. I have a feeling that KLCtheBookWorm is going to enjoy this. Ehehehe._

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Officer Gulch was coming to the belief that his main problem in the O.Z. was that actions did not seem to come with the consequences he would have predicted. Accidentally fall into a strange world and spend an entire battle gaping like a fish, end up the bodyguard to royalty. Fulfill duty diligently, become a laughingstock. Apply common sense and honest opinions to questions posed, cause a furore and get banished from political theatre. Beat the snot out of a boy half your age in a drunken brawl and suddenly everyone respects you. Well his subordinates did at any rate, for the most part. Sort of.

It was particularly unjust, the cop thought, that the laws of physics, so often on vacation in the O.Z., felt the need to pay extra special attention to their fight. Seeing as Jeb Cain refused to keep his princess bashing comments to himself, Gulch had taken it upon himself to give the boy a lesson in manners. What followed was an intricate exploration into the difficulties of fighting while securely attached to your opponent. Problem the first: when sending a man crashing to the ground with a crushing blow to the face, one inevitable followed as the forward momentum coupled with the sudden dead weight on the opposite arm were too much for any drunk man to counteract. Problem the second: when dodging back from a blow, the adversary must be pulled forward, resulting in embarrassing collision when one tries to deliver a quick jab. It felt half the time like they were attached by a rubber band that just kept recoiling and slamming them back together. Problem the third: even though his right fist was unhindered, which should have given Gulch an advantage, the cop's left hand was attached to Jeb's right. This meant that every time Jeb hit Gulch, Gulch hit Gulch. And then there was the slight issue of the handcuffs making it impossible for any well-meaning group of individuals to break things up.

By the time the Tin Man had finally returned to check on his son and co-worker, they'd managed to move the fight outside and get themselves wrapped around a lamp pole. Every tin man and passerby in the vicinity had stopped to watch. Half of the crowd was leaning against each other laughing; the other half was taking bets. In the end they had to call it a draw as Wyatt herder-of-children Cain, having had enough for the second time that night, promptly cracked their heads together and dragged them back to the palace by their ears.

The policeman did wish that Princess Azkadellia had more of her sister's response to the situation. DG, presented with a beaten Cain, merely sighed and – as long as they cooperated – calmly set to patching them up. Azkadellia alternated between angry scolding (mostly at Jeb) and teary eyed concern (all at Gulch). She hounded Raw into fixing the cop's face as if it were a national emergency. The cop would admit that he was a bit of a mess (or a disaster) at that point, but he felt the eldest princess was taking things far too seriously. It's not like he was a movie star with a multimillion dollar film on the line. Sigh.

Jeb Cain, meanwhile, watched the erstwhile Sorceress falling to pieces because her bodyguard had a boo-boo with the expression – as much as one could see of it around the swelling – of a kid that has just discovered that what he thought was a monster in his closet was actually a kitten that had gotten lost. It was obvious that his image of Princess Personification of Perfidy was being shaken to the foundations. Doctored by the kindly DG and watched by a suspicious Tin Man, the resistance fighter kept his comments to himself and went obediently to bed in the wee hours of the morning to sleep it off.

To give the boy credit, he sought his father out early the next day to confess his verbal sins. Cain nearly put him through the wall. Given that it was a stone wall that took some doing – and that was without any mention of DG. Officer Gulch was pretty sure that Jeb was planning to take that part of his drunken conversation to the grave, and everyone that had heard him seemed inclined to let the boy do it. Even gossip, it seemed, had a healthy sense of self-preservation. The cop had to admit, if word ever did reach Cain – or DG – Jeb's life would certainly get a little...awkward.

It didn't really surprise anyone when Jeb volunteered for a position that would keep him far removed from the royal family for a time. DG, of course, fussed and worried that maybe some irreparable harm had been done to the relationship the father and son had been rebuilding since they'd been reunited. Both Cains reassured her. Gulch had to smother a laugh at how red Jeb had gone when DG impulsively hugged him. Of course, that hadn't been as funny as the confused, conflicted expression on the Tin Man's face when she'd proceeded to wrap her arms around him as well. Wyatt too-honourable-for-his-own-good Cain, it seemed, was still not ready for that leap. The cop wondered how long it'd be before DG, not the most patient of people, attacked him.

Jeb and Gulch, naturally, stayed well clear of each other during the farewells. There had been no attempts at reconciliation between the two thus far. The Otherside cop felt he had nothing to apologize for, and the resistance fighter was still very young – he was not yet at the stage where he could meet a man that had physically chastised him with an apology.

Sadly, the strained relationship between royal bodyguard and army commander had come to be mirrored within the ranks of the royal guard and army as well. Indeed, in the weeks since Jeb's departure the tension between the two units had only worsened. The army was adamant in the belief that one of their commanders need not be pummelled for something he said while in his cups. The guard, on the other hand, was equally stubborn in insisting that an army commander ought to watch what he says or a loyal royal bodyguard just might be forced to educate him on his duties. By the third week after the fight communication between forces had become exceedingly grudging. The whole thing had Tin Man and cop jumpy as hell.

It was just over three weeks post-fight that the proverb about houses divided came by to visit them. No one saw it coming. The Longcoats were vanquished; the O.Z. was at peace, its wounds healing. The royal army didn't even recognize the threat for what it was as it wore the faces of friends. Every movement has its fanatics; the resistance had been filled with people that had fought too long, lost too much. Some had lived only to exact revenge on those that had made them suffer, now that the Longcoats were gone there was only one target left for their rage: Princess Azkadellia.

The royal family had been in council with a few of the O.Z.'s lords and advisors when the disaster struck. Officer Gulch, of course, had been sent to his room without any supper, leaving a few of his subordinates and the Tin Man to guard the princesses. Allowed past the gates by an army that didn't think to report their presence, overwhelming bodyguards that hadn't known they were there, men and women of the former resistance coalesced into an angry mob and stormed the council chambers.

The room became chaos as the various protection details attempted to pull their charges into whatever cover available and beat off the attack. The object may have been the death of the former Sorceress but, in the way of fanatics, anyone and everyone who dare get in the way was deemed a traitor and the enemy, including the royal family. Cain had DG sandwiched between himself and a pillar almost as soon as the first aggressor crossed the threshold. The Queen and Consort had been shoved into a small alcove, but Azkadellia was stuck in the middle of the floor with only a few overturned tables and a couple guards to shield her.

As complete a surprise as the strike had been, however, the fanatics were having an extremely difficult time accomplishing their goal. Officer Gulch had chosen his men well and an avenging angel in the form of an old Tin Man had the princess' back. Cain was rather emphatic in his demonstration of what he himself was fanatic about: protecting all things DG cared for. Mr. Revolver cut down anyone who dared try to reach either princess. The attackers had to put two bullets in the Tin Man before they could get anywhere, and even then most of them met with sudden death as Wyatt harm-DG-over-my-dead-body Cain refused to fall.

A third bullet finally slowed the Tin Man enough to allow assailants through to the guards protecting the eldest princess. DG cried out as a man hauled her sister out of cover by her hair and raised a knife.

_Tap, tap, tap._

The sound of cluster fire, drilled into every recruit during their academy days, cut through the battle and three bloody wounds blossomed in the chest of the knife-wielding militant.

_Tap, tap, tap. Tap, tap, tap. Tap, tap, tap._

Former resistance fanatics began dropping where they stood, the cavalry had arrived and its name was Officer Gulch. The royal guard would later remember being surprised at this. Hardly anyone had seen the policeman draw his gun much less fire it. Wasn't Gulch's fault no one had ever thought to visit him in the various firing ranges he'd set up for himself. He may not be the sharpshooter Cain was but in such a target rich environment it's not like he could miss. Besides, he was feeling greatly motivated.

_Tap, tap, tap. Bang. Bang. Bang._

Gulch, aided by the Tin Man, began cutting a swath to clear his way to the eldest princess. Glitch, having mentally clonked Ambrose over the head, broke free of his corner and began a violent dance to the music the lawmen were providing.

_Tap, click, snap. Tap, tap, tap._

The cop reached Azkadellia and hauled her back into cover.

_Tap, tap, tap. Tap, tap, tap._

Letting his training take over, completely in the zone, the policeman gave the O.Z. a demonstration in the Otherside's superior weaponry and the concept of rate of fire. The attack on the royal guard faltered.

_Tap, tap, tap. Tap, tap, tap._

The fanatics broke and tried to run but were either cut down or corralled by the surviving guards. Officer Gulch, scanning the room alertly for danger discovered that the knife-wielding assailant was still alive.

"Nobody stabs my princess," he growled, slamming the butt of his gun into the man's temple.

The silence of aftermath filled the room. Then, incongruously, someone giggled.

"'M-maybe you should put some shorts on or something, if you want to keep fighting evil today,'" DG said, trying to contain her laughter and hiding her face in Cain's shoulder.

The Tin Man was busy looking for remaining threats, but everyone else took a moment to glance where Officer Gulch stood, hair dripping bath water, wearing a hastily donned utility belt and nothing else.

Hitching herself up on her elbows, Azkadellia watched with interest as Gulch's blush started in his face, spread down his neck and kept on going. It really was quite the sight and she was pleasantly surprised to discover just what the policeman had been hiding under that Kevlar vest he generally insisted on wearing. He may not be bodybuilder or Michelangelo's David (whoever that was) but being the diligent cop he was, Gulch had kept himself quite fit. Tilting her head for a new angle, the princess wished someone could get him to turn around so she could get a rear view.

Blushing for all he was worth, the cop decided to focus on threat seeking and pretending he wasn't standing buck naked in the middle of a crowded room. Finally someone coughed and handed him a jacket. It made him feel like one of those perverts that run around flashing people but he put it on gratefully.

Glancing about once more, Gulch noted with pleasure that the prisoners were being rounded up and the wounded were being cared for. Help was arriving as servants and guards, drawn by the sounds of the commotion, flooded into the council room.

"Get Raw!" DG shouted.

Assured the danger was past, the Tin Man had finally allowed himself to slump down against the pillar. DG was frantically trying to gain access to his wounds but was hampered by Cain's insistent attempts to check _her_ over for injuries. The resulting tussle, innocent though it was, tempted Gulch to advise them to get a room.

"Well," he said to Azkadellia, "I should get you back to your chambers."

Click.

"Must make sure I don't get separated from my bodyguard again," Princess Azkadellia murmured mischievously, "there are dangerous men about."

_Not more dangerous than princesses,_ Gulch thought, _oh hey, Ahamo, I'm just going to walk around the palace half-naked and chained to your daughter, don't mind me._ Actually the look on the Consort's face was rather comical, fortunately the man had bigger fish to fry at present.

"You know, I am going to have to help sort this out," he told her.

"But there might be assassins waiting in my room," she protested lightly.

"I'll make sure you are alone."

"Pity."

Gulch went red once more.

A great deal of time later, palace having been scoured, all threats being neutralized, the policeman found himself in the kitchen where members of the royal guard and royal army were meeting for a subdued drink that was part reconciliation, part mourning, and part celebration. The eldest princess was still chained to his wrist (though she had kindly freed him for a few minutes to let him dress) and Officer Gulch found himself finally understanding the Tin Man to a certain extent. Wyatt justifiably-paranoid-is-my-middle-name Cain was currently stalking around the Palace for the third time, trailed by an anxious DG who insisted he get back to bed to rest his partially healed wounds. Cain was no doubt allowing this only because a princess in sight was a princess he knew was safe. Same went for a princess chained to one's wrist.

The royal guardsmen present, meanwhile, were being gracious in their acknowledgement of being the heroes of the day. As for Officer Gulch, he was the man! He was forever fixed in their minds as the epitome of a guardsman. Anyone who had the moritanium balls to conduct a gunfight in the buff must command the respect of all men. Of course, since he was still their Old Gulchy, they couldn't help but laugh a little at the look on their leader's face when he realized his state of undress. Nor could they resist describing the scene. Vividly. One fellow, an amateur artist in his spare time, even offered to paint of portrait to commemorate the event.

He was seen early the next morning hopping around the palace backwards on one foot while singing 'I've got a lovely bunch of coconuts.'


	13. Bouquet

_Disclaimer: I would try and claim Officer Gulch but then Azkadellia would shrink me thus I shall claim no ownership of Tin Man and characters at all._

_Author's Note: This chapter was delayed by my having a little nap after class. I woke up hours later with the thought that I must visit the bookstore and promptly fell back to sleep. Woke again to eat some supper, felt like a train hit me so went back to bed. My medulla tried to wake me again at 7am the next day but I rolled over and was out like a light again. Finally managed to pry myself out of bed upon my fourth waking about 930am. I think my body was trying to tell me something._

_Author's Note 2: Officer Gulch, after a week or so of silence, decided to ram one more story down my throat. It promptly split in two, so I am not moving as fast as you may think I am. Sigh. I'm almost kinda mostly sure were coming to the end of this, but I really don't have faith in that given I've thought I was near the end about three times over or more. As it stands now there are three chapters and an epilogue to go. Tomorrow, who knows?_

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Officer Gulch wanted to know what the big damn hurry was. What he meant was, Cain and DG had been doing their little I-love-you-but-I'm-not-going-to-tell-you-even-though-everyone-else-knows-it dance for almost two years now, so why is it that now they'd _finally_ decided to face the truth they had to get married _right freaking now_? He was also dying to know just what had finally brought about the big realization.

The whole assassination attempt really ought to have been a contender for a confession inducing mindset but Gulch knew it wasn't that, at least not directly. The Tin Man had given no sign of doing anything but continuing business as usual. Wounds not even healed, he'd been up and about early the next day visiting his wrath upon each and every involved member of the royal army _individually_. Word in the barracks was that he'd actually made some of the battle hardened soldiers cry. The royal guard thought they'd have it easier when Old Gulchy was put in charge of their reprimands, unfortunately the Kansas cop had a flashback of a man holding a knife to Azkadellia's throat, opened his mouth and had his old hardass police chief come out. No one cried but white faces seemed to be the new fashion trend.

The royal family, meanwhile, recalled Jeb Cain from his new post in order that he and Gulch could publically make nice in an attempt to rebuild relations between the military units. It was not clear how successful this bid for solidarity was but the royal army was certainly looking chastened after being subjected to their second Cain in as many days. Young Jeb had apparently taken the policeman's advice about using Wyatt fail-DG-and-I-shall-be-your-worst-nightmare Cain as a role model seriously. Of course, it might just have been the Tin Man's new training regime that had them looking so ragged. Officer Gulch had just been marvelling how a man who had no authority over them had made the royal army jump when Cain had reminded the cop what could have happened. Next thing the royal guard knew they were running an obstacle course that would have made an Otherside Navy Seal wince. By the end of the week the royal guard and army were united alright, they were united in their fear of lawmen turned bodyguards.

Yet despite all this, Cain gave every indication of swimming in De Nial like he was trying to set a record. Then DG pulled one of her disappearing acts.

No one even knew she was gone until the Tin Man went tearing out of the Palace like there was a fire somewhere and DG was in it. He bulldozed through three ranks of an army column without even slowing down and when he returned an hour later he was carrying the youngest princess in his arms. They must have wanted to fall off after having carried her halfway across Central City, but since DG was drunker than Gulch had ever seen her it was probably the best plan – she'd have hurled all over the back of Cain's duster if he'd have done his usual over the shoulder move.

Not a single person questioned the Tin Man as he passed, anger rolling off him with every step. Hell, even the doors seemed to open themselves in deference to the look on his face. Cain himself seemed oblivious to all but DG, marching straight into her quarters and not emerging again until late the following morning.

Naturally, Wyatt leave-no-stone-unturned-in-safeguarding-the-wellbeing-of-DG Cain left the door cracked for propriety's sake. This ought to have drawn a crowd of curious and nosy onlookers, but Officer Gulch dragged Princess Azkadellia away from the door and set himself up to guard the end of the corridor. The eldest princess was no doubt annoyed with him for this but he reasoned she could always girl-talk it out of her sister later. There were some things a man should be allowed to do in private and Gulch figured that this might be one of them. He was aware, of course, that he was in the position to satisfy his own curiosity, but he was smart enough to know that Mr. Revolver was likely guarding the door. If the Tin Man wanted privacy he'd get it.

It was a long and boring night for the police officer. He was mildly alarmed by the brief sound of crashing furniture that came shortly after sunrise, but promptly thereafter attributed it to DG's having attacked Cain at last. Sometime later, the cop went scrambling for cover as the Tin Man strode purposely out of DG's room in search of Ahamo. The rest was history.

Which brought Officer Gulch to where he was now, attending a wedding that had been hastily inserted into the schedule of the Heroes of the Eclipse Celebration. Gulch wondered less about the arrangement of the nuptials – it was the only way to get a royal wedding ready so fast – than he did about how what was supposed to be a ball had grown into a week long holiday with events following the quest for the emerald. Had no one even stopped to consider the headache that would be involved in guarding the royal family as they were shepherded through a week long moving party?

They had started where DG – and, oddly enough, Gulch – had began, in the forest of the Eastern Guild with the universe's weirdest powwow. The cop would give them this, the ankle biters may be frustrating conversationalists but they certainly knew how to party. Probably shouldn't have let DG try out their tree hanging devices, though, Cain about had three heart attacks running around beneath her lest she fall. The next stop had been the recently restored Milltown, a place where fun had yet to be properly explained. Father Vue's sermon on the events of the Eclipse was a wonderful time to catch up on sleep. Then it was on to Central City, the Papay having chosen not commemorate their attempt to eat the princess, and forcing her jump off a cliff.

The Central City Ball was both a holiday and wedding event. For some strange reason, in the O.Z. wedding gifts were opened a few days prior to the wedding. Cain told Gulch in a sarcastic aside that it was to guilt anyone with cold feet into going through with it. The cop's gift was wrapped, much to DG's amusement, in the remainder of his old speeding tickets and contained the keys to DG's painstakingly restored motorcycle and his spare Kevlar vest. He figured a man married to DG would need one. The princess loved it so much she hugged him. Cain must have liked it, too, because Mr. Revolver stayed in the holster. Gulch wondered how long Mellow Cain would last. DG and the Tin Man had been every bit as nauseating as the cop had thought they'd be in their soon to be newlywed state, but Gulch figured it wouldn't be long until Cain was back to his old self, and probably ten times as paranoid to boot.

The Northern Island was an interesting stop. Gulch had never been there before as Princess Azkadellia didn't like to be reminded that she'd once killed her sister within those very walls. The cop found this strange, not that she was upset by the murder, but that she had a problem with the palace. She had no trouble hanging out at Finaqua after all and that was where she was possessed in the first place. Still, DG's impromptu snowball fight seemed to clear the air and soon the party moved on to greener pastures.

Choosing to commemorate the restoration of their orchard by DG – and certainly not their second attempt to eat her – the Papay had offered to host the Heroes Wedding. One of those renewals of life things. Gulch had to admit that the trees in bloom were very pretty.

DG, naturally, had made a few changes to the traditional O.Z. wedding ceremony, namely she'd insisted on having her sister for a maid of honour. This neatly took care of any lingering doubts the council of idiots (as Gulch thought of them) had regarding the eldest princess' presence at the Heroes Celebration. No one could expect Azkadellia to miss her sister's wedding, especially when she was part of it. Cain was thereby required to find a best man. Quite shrewdly, Gulch thought, the Tin Man selected his son, knowing that Jeb would thereby be forced to spend a fair amount of time with his former enemy. Prejudice being a great deal due to ignorance, the cop figured Cain was endeavouring to ensure his future family's peaceful co-existence by making them get better acquainted. After all, who couldn't like Azkadellia once they got to know her?

It seemed to have worked. Jeb and Gulch exchanged manly nods of acknowledgement just prior to the ceremony, putting their fight behind them once and for all. The ceremony itself passed swiftly, interesting in its novelty – for Gulch anyhow. There was only one snafu.

"You forgot to tell him he could kiss the bride," DG stated, glaring at the minister.

The old fellow blinked. That certainly wasn't part of the vows he was accustomed to.

"Tell him to kiss the bride," DG demanded. "Oh forget it," she continued when the minister simply stared at her then turned to the Tin Man, "you may kiss the bride."

Cain didn't need to be told twice.

Click.

Breaking off their smooch session, the Tin Man looked down in surprise.

"These," said DG holding up their cuffed wrists, "are not coming off until I say so." Then she smiled.

It was clear from Ahamo's expression that he really would have preferred not to see his daughter looking _like that_ at a man right in front of him. Gulch, meanwhile, found nothing odd about this picture but wished they'd tone it down on the PDA.

Hours later, DG having caved on her handcuff stance in order to allow Ahamo to have his much anticipated and demanded father of the bride dance, Gulch discovered what other horrid wedding traditions DG had decided to bring over from the Otherside. The event most feared by single men was to take place: she was throwing her bouquet. Azkadellia caught it (none of the other ladies present dared go after it when the princess looked so darned determined). Officer Gulch felt an odd sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach.

The throwing of the garter was decidedly more amusing. Cain had been as embarrassed as hell to go after it and then demanded it back at gunpoint. Only the Tin Man would wear a revolver to his own wedding. Well it's not like Gulch actually wanted to keep the thing.

Having left Kansas attempting to make friends with a young Papay while being watched by a fascinated Kalm, Gulch decided it was time to pay the open bar another visit. This, he thought, was a truly worthwhile tradition to import. Toasting the couple's health for the fifteenth time, he was just managing to forget his earlier sense of foreboding when Princess Azkadellia sat down beside him still holding the bouquet.

"We're getting married," she stated without preamble.

Officer Gulch choked on his ale. "Who is?" he asked.

"You and me," Azkadellia replied.

Gulch blinked.

"I caught the bouquet, you caught the garter," the princess said slowly, "We. Are. Getting. Married."

In the mind of the Kansas cop, his thoughts were not freezing so much as derailing into the worst train wreck anyone had ever seen. That wasn't how it worked right? Right? He was pretty sure garter catching came with no obligations besides, perhaps, a dance. Someone would have warned him if it were otherwise right? That had to be a solid, unbreakable rule of brotherly solidarity: let no man be blindsided by matrimony. He'd been to weddings before and no one came out of them engaged. Men would be running from the garter if that were the case.

Azkadellia didn't know whether to laugh or sigh at the blank, petrified look on Gulch's face. His beer was frozen suspended in the air midway between the bar and his mouth; his left eyelid seemed to be twitching slightly. She was pretty sure she'd jammed his mental processes up extensively. DG had warned her about rushing a man but she just didn't have the patience her sister did. As the cop continued to sit there like a malfunctioning tic tok man, the eldest princess decided he needed a bit of a jolt and grabbed the collar of his jacket.

"Yes!" crowed DG, watching from across the clearing and pumping her fist in the air, "Houston we have lip-lock."

"Houston?" Cain asked in puzzlement.

"Never mind," she smiled up at him. "Atta be Az!" the youngest princess murmured taking one last glance at her sister. Had to admire the girl, in fact, best follow her example, and, grabbing hold of her Tin Man's lapels, she did.

Officer Gulch's thoughts, meanwhile, were not being jolted back into function so much as tumbling down a cliff onto a set of tracks he didn't even know were there. Pulling back from the Azkadellia when she finally released him, he stared at her in astonishment.

"We are getting married," she reiterated.

Gulch blinked at her then glanced at the open bar. He'd spent a great deal of time there this evening if he recalled correctly. There was a good possibility that none of this was actually happening.

"Um...Okay?" he said.


	14. Aftermath

_Disclaimer: I hereby declare that I doth not owneth thy Tin Man. Woe is me._

_Author's Note: This is, for me, a new chapter. Last chapter has been in my brain since about the time this officially became a story. I'm kinda glad that Gulch inserted the idea from which this promptly split off as I'm pretty sure you all would have tracked me down and shot me for skipping to the one that was supposed to be next. The order of chapter presentation to my brain is roughly 1, 2, 3, 4, 13, 16?, 11, 12, E, 7, 8, 6, 5, 9, 10, 15?, 14 (? for chapters unwritten and therefore not guaranteed to follow current schedule, E for epilogue). How do I have a remotely coherent story given this? No idea. Still trying to figure out how you guys were picking up a storyline before I even knew I was writing a story. Used to happen to me in English class all the time. My theory is there is a little gremlin in my brain that keeps track of these things. It is probably the pet of the five year old that is generally running the show. Oh well, smile and nod and hope it keeps working!_

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Officer Gulch woke early the morning after Cain and DG's wedding with a rather overwhelming sense of panic. His recollections of the previous night were undoubtedly hazy – he had been incredibly drunk – but he had the distinct feeling that some doom now hung over him. Painstakingly searching his memory, he discovered an alarming number of new revelations culminating in the rather disturbing image of a bouquet. The eldest princess hadn't _really_ commanded him to marry her had she? And surely, _surely_, he hadn't answered with 'okay', that was just a drunken hallucination right?

"Good morning."

Gulch's heart practically stopped at the sight of Princess Azkadellia sitting at the end of his bedroll. This was not happening, he hadn't been _that_ drunk. On second glance he noticed that the princess was dressed and most certainly not wearing what she had last night while he most definitely still was. Ergo, she had _not_ spent the night in his tent and Ahamo was not about to burst through the door with a pair of rusty shears and thoughts of emasculation. Thank goodness for small favours...

"Since we didn't really get a chance to talk things through last night," Azkadellia began, "I thought we should have a chat this morning."

Stomach not so much dropping as disappearing altogether, Gulch swallowed a lump in his throat that tasted a lot like foreboding.

"As I understand from DG that one does not rush a man on the subject of matrimony..."

Eyes bugging, jaw hanging slack, the cop watched the oncoming train in morbid fascination.

"...I thought I should give you some time before we made the betrothal official."

As if trying to test the theory that everyone is born with a set number of heartbeats, the policeman's heart set to racing as if to get through them faster.

"How does a week sound to you?"

Gulch managed a strangled gargle.

"Excellent, I shall see you later then," the eldest princess announced then rose and strode purposely from the tent.

Officer Gulch, meanwhile, was left a petrified, empty shell, all systems down, conscious thought fleeing in search of realities where princesses don't ambush drunken men with marriage proposals.

He spent the rest of the Heroes Celebration in that state. Of the four people that might have noticed something was wrong with Automaton Gulch, two were off on their honeymoon and one was preoccupied with running around Finaqua looking for the best place to hold a wedding ceremony. Raw did notice that all was not well, but the cop's thoughts were so blank the Viewer couldn't make heads or tails of the situation even after having held the man's hand for an hour. And Gulch had just let him do it.

The final destination of the celebration was the infamous Tower. Back in the days when the policeman actually had thoughts, he'd considered it strange that the people of the O.Z. would want to celebrate in a place that represented all that they had hated and feared for over a decade. On the other hand, it was less of a party on more of large public acts of vandalism festival. The royal family, having finally determined what to do with the Tower, decided to get the deconstruction started with a symbolic free-for-all tearing down. Everyone in the O.Z. was welcome to rip, remove and salvage anything they chose. The protection details were having conniption fits trying to keep track of their charges and defend against potential threats.

Princess Azkadellia, naturally, had chosen not to attend. Instead she stayed some distance away with a security attachment picking out flower arrangements. Her chief bodyguard, meanwhile, had wandered dazedly off in what had become his habitual manner of late. He was eventually found standing in the brain room, staring at the jar that had once held Ambrose's marbles and wondering if it had any more for him.

It wasn't until they'd gotten back to Central City Palace that Officer Gulch experienced a systems reboot. Passing Azkadellia in the hall, she'd smiled up at the cop so sweetly he'd momentarily forgotten his current worries, his doomed future, and his name. Then she'd moved on, her heels tapping on the floor like the beat of an execution drum. Gulch rediscovered panic. He needed to talk to someone, needed to talk to someone _right now_.

Unfortunately for the policeman, he was rather low on friends and close acquaintances in the O.Z. The nearest person he had to a friend was currently unavailable and likely to be unsympathetic to his plight. Stupid happily married people. This was not something you discussed with subordinates; Glitch would likely blurt out the particulars of the conversation at the most inconvenient moment available; Raw tended just to agree with people where statements of blame and screwedness were involved without actually offering any advice; and Ahamo was out for very obvious reasons. That really only left one person.

Gulch nearly crushed Jeb's windpipe when he frantically hauled the army commander into a nearby secluded alcove. Jeb Cain may not have been the best choice of confidant given their history and his youth but the cop was desperate. Indeed, at the tender age of twenty, Jeb had never had to worry about anything so dire. Evil family destroying sorceresses were a laugh by comparison. Still, having inherited at least some of his father's nobility and being well acquainted with the concept of brothers-in-arms, he was willing to help and suggested the manly, one-size-fits-all solution: going out and getting blind stinking drunk.

Given his last experience with drunkenness, Gulch was naturally hesitant when presented with this idea. Then again, he didn't have any other options in mind and he was going to die soon anyway so why not?

The tavern keeper was also hesitant when the royal guard and royal army commander walked into his bar. He recognized the two main culprits from its recent remodel. However, once the situation was explained to him – without the use of names, of course – he proved he too knew of brotherly solidarity and poured the Kansas cop the biggest beer anyone in the O.Z. or the Otherside had ever seen, free of charge.

Some hours later, having thoroughly discussed the menace all women represented, noting the dangers that princesses in particular entailed, and having sampled every type of alcohol in the tavern three times over (reshistance moonshine, good shtuff tha'), the two comrades began making their stumbling way home. Gulch was coming to the opinion that the young resistance fighter was going to grow up all right, was already well on his way in fact. Jeb, meanwhile, was thinking that the cop was an okay guy, such a pity that he wouldn't get to know him better. Neither of them was thinking about where they were walking.

Lord Fastidium of the Great Kells was less than pleased to be bowled over by two drunken commoners. He was further infuriated by the fact that one of them was the one responsible for spoiling his carefully planned politically manoeuvring. He had half a mind to sic the servants on them.

"You, peasants, will have care where you walk. Be mindful of your lowly status and do not sully noble personages with your loathsome contact," His Stuffiness dictated.

Gulch and Jeb paused in the act of brushing each other off in drunken ineffectiveness to stare at the noble personage in bemusement.

"It verily stymies my immense intelligence that a duo of such inept, incompetent, boorish, uncouth, churlish, ill-mannered, impolite, ill-bred and inebriated infinitesimal simulacrums of humanity such as you pestilent vermin ever managed the providence of having dignified positions and inexplicable, illustrious fame befall you," his lordship continued.

The aforementioned men blinked.

"Wha' diddi shay?" asked Jeb.

"Dun kno'," Gulch replied. Mindful of his training, he inquired, "Woul' 'ou care to shplain you'shelf shir?"

"I said," Lord Fastidium orated indignantly, "that you loathsome knaves be excremental desecrations of the corporal manifestations you embody, unbefitting of your, by common respects, lofty estates, your eminent celebrity, or even your respiration of perfectly beneficial oxygen."

Jeb and Gulch exchanged uncomprehending stares.

"Hit 'im," they declared.

Sometime later, attempting to meet Ahamo's eyes through the bars, Officer Gulch reflected with pride that the tin man from his previous stay had not only learned well the cop's fight breaking technique, but had also taught it to the others. What did a lord need so many servants for anyhow? Not enough, though, if he was going to use them for brawling; they were horrible at it.

"Is this a habit of yours?" the Consort asked.

"'Snot an 'abit 'til i' becomes 'abishual," the cop countered.

Ahamo blinked. He wasn't entirely sure whether his question had been answered or not.

"I thought you two got over trying to attack each other," he muttered.

"I wasn' fightin' wif '_im_," Gulch objected, "I was fightin' _wif_ 'im."

"Wash necceshary, dooty e'en," Jeb interjected resolutely, "No 'un shays dat 'bout a royal guarmy man and ge'sway wi' it."

"Oh?" the Consort inquired, interested, "and what did he say?"

"Dun kno', 'e ne'er did shay," Gulch informed him. "In engleash," he added meticulously.

Giving up on learning anything, Ahamo resignedly gestured for a tin man to unlock the cell.

"Mush obli'd," slurred Jeb.

"Mi'ee good o' you," Gulch agreed.

"Not my idea," Ahamo stated flatly.

"'Olee Wrafful Goddeshish, Bat Monkey!" the cop uttered as he moved into the hall.

Princess Azkadellia was standing by the main desk and she didn't look happy, she looked far, far from happy. Drunks are seldom quiet and gossip travels so very quickly. Women don't like to learn their fiancés went out and got drunk at the thought of marriage. Most of the tin men in the room looked like they were thinking up ways to escape. It was almost enough to scare the policeman back into sobriety, almost, but not quite. He did consider the notion that he should rethink his drinking habits, however.

"Think we can get them to fight again if we chain them together?" a tin man not in the princess' line of sight asked, nodding at Jeb and Gulch. "We still haven't settled that bet."

Azkadellia hissed, the man shut up and vamoosed.

Gulch wished he could follow the tin man's example. Though, now that he thought about it, something wasn't quite right.

"Wha' is i'?" asked Jeb when the cop suddenly stopped in front of him.

"Shomefin's mishing," Gulch mused, "Ah! No cuffsh. Der's a'ways cuffsh ina deese shircumstanshes."

"If it makes you feel better," the eldest princess of the O.Z. said icily.

Click.

"Hey!" exclaimed an indignant voice.

Officer Gulch looked down at his wrist in horror. Princess Azkadellia had handcuffed him to _Ahamo,_ last person in the world he wanted to be chained to, as well she knew. She was _pissed._ For that matter, he noted looking up, so was the Consort.


	15. Duel

_Disclaimer: I own so little and Tin Man sadly does not rank amongst my possessions._

_Author's Note: This chapter was slightly delayed by my having to take a night off to write my anthropology paper. The prof gave us a stupid question and then was dumb enough to hand me creative licence. He can only blame himself for my new army of Neanderthals and quest for world domination. Got to say, made for a fun paper, shame there was a five page limit, I could have kept going. Muwhahaha. I really hope he has a sense of humour or I am screwed, but you know what they say about stupid questions._

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Officer Gulch was coming to the firm belief that there was such a thing as past lives and, frankly, he spent a great deal of time wondering what he had done in his last one that was so horrible as to make both universes hate him so thoroughly. It had been almost three weeks since his last drunken debacle and Princess Azkadellia was still mad at him. He was currently at his wits end as to how to fix the situation. The eldest princess was far angrier with him than she had been over the story incident and this time there were no conveniently placed trees to help him out. Gulch was a point-non-plus.

Not that the princess was avoiding him this time around, at least not in the strictest sense. She no longer sought him out during his off-duty hours but she did not disappear on him when he was her acting bodyguard either. Instead she ignored him. Used to being somewhat near the center of her attention, Gulch now felt more like some unsightly feature of the landscape – one knew it was there but since one could do nothing about it one merely pretends it doesn't exist. Princess Azkadellia seemed masterful at pretending things didn't exist. The only time the cop managed to get her to so much as glance his way was when he had Kansas with him. Noticing this, Gulch had started keeping the little mobat with him for all his active duty shifts, hoping that Kansas could work some small furry animal magic on the situation. Unfortunately, it soon became apparent that the only effect the mobat had was to make the princess go all teary-eyed, and not in the good way. Rather alarmed, the policeman immediately abandoned this plan.

Hoping there was some truth to the adage 'time heals all wounds', the cop's next idea was to give her some time, perhaps some space would take the edge off her anger and allow him a chance to mend a few bridges. Unluckily, there was an unforeseen complication. Now that DG was definitely off the marriage market, Princess Azkadellia was currently the nearest available route to the throne. It started slowly at first, her past still having its affect on the population, but soon the smarter and braver or simply more determined of the youngest princess' erstwhile suitors began to flock in the eldest princess' direction. Officer Gulch found he didn't like this at all.

Princess Azkadellia, filled with the fury of a woman scorned, took to this newfound attention like it was going out of style while Officer Gulch, had he but known it, stalked along behind her in an eerily familiar manner. Since their betrothal was not official, and as he was not entirely sure it was even still unofficial, Gulch really couldn't say anything about the circumstances. The days passed, the princess flirted and the policeman glowered. He wracked his brain nonstop in search of a solution yet still none came. To make matters worse, the cop was experiencing an elusive sense of déjà vu that was downright infuriating. It was only a matter of time before something had to give in true Old Gulchy style.

"What the hell am I supposed to do with this?" Gulch demanded, staring at the sword in bemused horror.

He really wanted to know how he'd managed to add yet another event to his 'how did I end up here' list, it wasn't like he hadn't hit the man before. Apparently there was a difference between getting in drunken brawl with someone and punching them in the face during the course of a ball. The cop wasn't even sure what the man had said, Lord Fastidium could have been asking Princess Azkadellia to dance, insulting her, or commenting on the weather for all Gulch knew. All that had mattered, however, was that some man was talking to the princess who was currently ignoring the Kansas cop and something inside him snapped. Just like in a certain bar fight months ago, Gulch suddenly found himself closing the distance between them and delivering a solid blow to the lord's jaw. It had occurred to the generally easy-going policeman that he had been getting in a fair few fights lately. In some distant corner of his mind he was mildly alarmed by this, but at that moment he was quite determined to wipe the floor with one Lord Annoyance.

Next thing he knew he'd been challenged to a duel. Or rather, his duel challenge had been accepted. Evidently in the O.Z there was some meaning attached to striking a man while wearing leather gloves.

"Don't look at me," said DG, eyeing the sword with fascination, "I grew up in the same small Kansas town you did. Fencing is something you do with barbed wire."

Gulch may have no idea what exactly his fight was about, but the one nice upshot was that DG seemed to be on his side again. As a far more added bonus, it also meant the Wyatt DG-is-my-guiding-star Cain was now able to feel some sympathy for the beleaguered police officer. The duel was to be met at dawn three days hence and the cop was feeling the need for friends.

"Can't help you there," the Tin Man replied to the cop's beseeching look, "I prefer to shoot people."

"And when you can't shoot them?" Gulch asked.

"I hit 'em."

A feeling of doom settling over him, the cop stared once more at the sword as if expecting it to jump up and start giving him pointers.

"How is the winner of a duel determined in the O.Z. anyhow?" inquired DG.

"Submission or death," Cain replied.

"_Death_," DG and Gulch squeaked in unison.

"Usually they only go as far as submission, to avoid later complications," the Tin Man continued, "but to submit would be to say that you were wrong about whatever caused the duel in the first place."

Gulch had a brief vision of just bellowing 'I submit' out his window and going back to bed three mornings from now. Unfortunately that would mean saying he was wrong and he felt stubbornly unwilling to do so.

"You don't happen to know what he said do you?" the cop asked. It would be nice to know if he was about to die because he didn't agree the sky was blue.

Tilting his head down as if to hide a smile behind his fedora Cain answered, "No idea. I understand three and four syllable words just fine but not when you throw them out back to back like that. I think even Ambrose was having trouble keeping up. The lord ought to write his conversation down so one could study it for a bit."

"What happens if Gulch doesn't submit?" DG asked, biting her lip. It was nice to see she had such faith in him.

"Lord Fastidium could just wound Gulch to the point he is unable to continue, that would count as submission," Cain replied, "but I don't know if he will, I'm not sure of his motives and I certainly don't like what I've seen of the lord's character. If this were a military duel I'd be more confident, but you really can't trust the nobles to have straightforward reasons for anything."

"Military?" the cop suddenly interjected sharply.

"Yeah military, soldiers and nobles are the only people that even have duels anymore," the Tin Man began but Gulch was already gone.

Jeb Cain's first comment on the matter was 'hurk', but that was probably because Officer Gulch had once again hauled him urgently aside by his jacket collar. His second reaction was bewildered surprise, the third was incredulous laughter.

"I don't know how much help I'll be," Jeb began to the Othersider's disappointment, "I never had any formal training, just learn as you go, self-taught basics. I have a few quick and dirty tricks but I doubt they'll be much use against a trained swordsman."

"Quick and dirty," averred Gulch, "is precisely what I need."

Three mornings later, feeling decidedly grouchy, Officer Gulch stood in the courtyard of the Central City Palace awaiting his opponent in the early dawn light. He had never been much of a morning person, and he felt it was decidedly unjust for one to be hauled out of bed before the crack of dawn in order to be skewered with a sword. His second, Wyatt always-keeps-his-word Cain, had been adamant about his getting up, however. Adjusting the utility belt on his waist, Gulch felt tempted to call him out just for the aggravation.

The police utility belt wasn't really designed to hold a sword scabbard but in the midst of the chaos that was Officer Gulch's life in the O.Z. he preferred the comfort of familiar objects. Besides, it held his secondary weapon. Sadly it wasn't a gun; Lord Fastidium had been quite clear on that matter, one could use a whole range of other weapons but firearms were out. The lord in question, the cop noted as his opponent approached, favoured a nasty looking dagger to go with his sword. How cliché.

"Has mine adversary attended to the essential arrangements for his portion of the proceedings?" Fastidium intoned solemnly.

"Probably," Gulch muttered in reply.

"Then we shall commence," the lord began but was interrupted when Cain suddenly cursed quietly.

Following the Tin Man's gaze with a sinking feeling, Gulch spotted Princess Azkadellia headed their direction hauling DG and Raw along with her. The connection between princesses was glowing while the Viewer looked to be in pain, indicating that the eldest princess was currently under some sort of duress. Gulch decided he was liking his morning less and less.

"This is an affair of honour," Lord Fastidium stated before anyone else could get a chance to respond, "it cannot in good principle be overset by outer contrivances nor should it be witnessed by uninvolved parties."

"Stuff it," advised DG, "we're just here to watch not interfere." _Unless we need to_ was the unspoken conclusion.

"Doth not mine challenger have any judgements regarding this irregularity in protocol?" the lord demanded querulously.

"Whatever gave you the idea that I have any control over them?" Gulch pointed out.

"Very well," the windbag capitulated, "we shall proceed thus observed, but know this, depraved miscreant, I do not cross swords with you this day in any indication that your degenerate person be of the least worthy of the honour. I sully my dignified blade only in order that I may prevent future incursions of your contemptible presence unto the attendance of noble personages such as myself."

"If I die I hope my second shoots you," replied the policeman before drawing his sword.

The duel commenced with what Gulch considered to be great success: he didn't get stabbed right off the bat. He was considerably surprised that he had managed the first parry, astonished at parrying the second, and then just too damn busy by the third to have an emotional response. The cop was most decidedly on the defensive, which was a problem considering all of Jeb's little tricks required him to be able to shift to at least something approaching offence. It also didn't help that Azkadellia kept making little gasps and cries of alarm and distress as that is very distracting to a man that has been tasked with her safety and wellbeing for months. He wished she hadn't come. She really didn't need to see him...get slashed across the chest like that.

_Ow._

It was a shallow gash, Officer Gulch's instincts and reflexes regarding sharp object avoidance being what they were, but it hurt and, quite frankly, infuriated him. Pressing suddenly forward, the cop forgot all about the resistance fighter's quick lessons and fell back on ingrained training. His weapon may be a sword but his mind and muscle memory said police baton and used it accordingly. Lord Fastidium, surprised by the sudden onslaught and strange manoeuvres, was actually put on defensive and gave ground. Not for long, however. While not a master of the art, Fastidium was a decent swordsman and he soon recovered himself. Gulch, noticing the change in control, managed to get in close on a parry and decided to try his hand at grappling.

What followed was a less than brilliant standing wrestling match while holding pointy objects, which ended in both combatants attempting to slice their arms to ribbons before falling haphazardly over each other. Their swords, fortunately, went flying clear. Unfortunately, Gulch ended up on the bottom.

"Dost thou yield?" Lord Fastidium demanded pompously, holding his dagger to the cop's throat, eyes opened wide to enjoy his victory.

Which is precisely when Officer Gulch gave him a face full of pepper spray. The lord shrieked and leapt away, hands clawing at his eyes, knife nicking the policeman's neck on the way by. Rising swiftly to his feet, Gulch fell back into the comforting arms of his police training as he disarmed the incapacitated Fastidium, knocked the lord first to his knees, then to his stomach.

Click.

There was something so satisfying about finally using those damn cuffs for what they were meant for in the first place. The cop was studiously not thinking about how reluctant the Tin Man had been to give them up, even for a day. He was halfway through reading Lord Fastidium his rights when he remembered the man was not under arrest. Gulch wasn't entirely sure the lord had the same rights, either.

Placing a knee into Fastidium's back Gulch asked, "Do you submit?"

"Never would I besmirch my surname and family crest by acquiescing to the blandishments of a cowardly swine such as you, varmint."

Gulch took that as a no. He was never one for police brutality but there was a time and place for everything. Hauling the lord upwards by his bound hands, the cop slammed Fastidium back into the ground again.

"Do you submit?"

"Pestilent, craven viper, you durst cheat in a noble matter of honour. You dishonour your post, your country, and its crown, charlatan!"

"I didn't cheat," the cop argued, "you gave me a list of viable secondary weapons, maces were on it. This," he said holding up the can of pepper spray, "is mace."

As this merely started the lord on another extensive verbal diatribe it was apparent the noble personage did not agree. Sighing, Gulch realized how much easier it was to understand Lord Fastidium when one was neither drunk nor seeing through various shades of green. He really wished he didn't, however.

"Do I stab him or give him another shot of the spray?" the policeman mused.

"I'm still favour shooting 'em," Wyatt all-of-life's-answers-are-found-in-the-barrel-of-a-gun Cain responded from where he and the other second were struggling to hold the princesses back.

"Pepper spray it is," decided Gulch.

"I yield!" shrieked the lord, trying to hide his eyes in the dirt.

"Finally," said Officer Gulch, standing, "we should take him somewhere to get his eyes rinsed out."

His dutiful concerns for his opponent were interrupted, though, when Princess Azkadellia suddenly collapsed. Rushing forward, he was waved aside by DG.

"She's fine," said the youngest princess, "She's just relieved is all."

The eldest princess was sitting with her head in her hands gasping in great breaths of air but she took the time to shoot her sister a look that seemed to disagree with the previous statement. Gulch, meanwhile, was being struck by that vague sense of déjà vu again.

"You, what the hell did you think you were doing?" Princess Azkadellia demanded pushing herself awkwardly to her feet. Her voice was attempting for stern anger but had the tendency to wobble as her eyes became fixed on the blood seeping through his shirt. "Do you have any idea..."

The rest of her rant was lost on the policeman, however, as he found himself in the midst of an epiphany. He finally understood why this all seemed so damned familiar.

"That's enough," Gulch said, cutting Azkadellia off.

"W-what?" the eldest princess said in surprise. Her chief bodyguard, the soul of chivalry, had rarely crossed her in anything, and almost never on purpose.

"I said enough," the cop reiterated, "I've had my fill of this, it's time to end it once and for all. Come on," he said, grabbing her wrist and pulling her towards the palace.

"W-where are we going?" Azkadellia asked in alarm. She wasn't sure what to think of Assertive Gulch and was more than a little worried about what he may be thinking.

"To see Ahamo," he replied still striding forward.

"Why?"

"We are getting married," Gulch stated.

This was not the response she expected. "What?" she exclaimed.

"Just what I said," the cop said urbanely, "We. Are. Getting. Married."

"B-but..."

"Look Azkadellia," Officer Gulch said stopping and turning around suddenly to face her, "either we continue to do a DG-Tin Man-esque dance around each other for the next two years or so, or we can get married in the nearish future and I can have the hope of surviving that long. Nearish future, not tomorrow," he stated clearly.

"But you never asked me," protested the princess.

"Neither did you," Gulch rebutted irrefutably before leading her forward once more.

"Daddy's probably still in his chambers right now, where are you going?" she asked as he set off in the opposite direction.

"To the kitchen to get a beer," her fiancé replied, "I have a feeling Ahamo's going to need it."


	16. Bachelor Party

_Disclaimer: I own nought but plot and my Lord F._

_Author's Note: Some of you may recognize a character of mine in this chapter. For those of you who saw it coming, the chapter you have been waiting for has arrived. For those of you who are just catching on now, oh yes, I did. For those of you who have no idea what I am talking about, don't worry, he isn't that hard to find._

_Author's Note 2: This chapter split in half while I was writing it so the story just got longer _again_. Surprise, surprise. Can someone please inform Gulch that I am trying to get this done before exams hit?_

_Author's Note 3: Almost forgot, creativity inspiration points to Miller0259. Some of you might be able to figure out what I'm talking about, those who can't, well I suggest you mosey over to this author's profile and have a looksee. My brain loves tangents._

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Officer Gulch had decided it was official: DG is, was, and always would be his nemesis. It was because of her that he was here after all, in all the ways that he _was_ where he was at that moment. He'd been brought to the O.Z. by _her_ travel storm; it was _her_ Tin Man that had suggested they keep him and _her_ family that had agreed; and it was because of DG that he met Azkadellia in the first place. Given the state of his nerves at present, he was debating adding his impending marriage to the list of DG's sins. Regardless, there was absolutely no question of the fact that she was directly responsible for his currently being surrounded by the dumbest drunks he had ever met in the O.Z. or the Otherside.

Life had been going so well, too. Sure the Consort had blown a gasket when Gulch and Azkadellia had broken the news of their engagement, but that was only to be expected under the circumstances, especially given the fact that they'd invaded his room shortly after dawn to do so and had only brought one beer to soften the blow. The Queen had taken the news much better. Actually, she'd been quite alarmingly prompt to start planning the wedding; fortunately she'd insisted that at least three months were required to throw it together properly. The cop may have decided he wanted to marry the princess but he still needed time to get used to the idea.

The months leading up to the royal wedding were some of the calmest the Kansas policeman ever had spent in the O.Z. No one tried to shoot Azkadellia, Glitch kept his inventions to himself, Gulch neither got drunk nor got in a fight, his subordinates showed him proper respect, and the policeman was not required at any time to climb any trees. Even the Tin Man, who had followed the cop's expectations by emerging directly from his temporary mellowness into hardcore Uber Overprotective Mode, seemed to consider Gulch to be nonthreatening and refrained from pointing Mr. Revolver at him. The bride-to-be, meanwhile, spent her time either glowing in the presence of her fiancé or terrorizing the country into ensuring her wedding day was perfect. The handcuffs were hardly ever used. Officer Gulch really ought to have known it was too good to last.

Trouble had come the day before the wedding when DG, in the midst of educative discourse on traditions of the Otherside, decided that the formerly confirmed bachelor really ought to have himself a bachelor party. He suspected this was in part due to her desire to throw Azkadellia a bachelorette celebration, never mind the fact that the night before the wedding really wasn't the time for it. He hadn't seen the eldest princess all day, due to her latching onto the Otherside custom of not seeing the groom the day before the wedding, but soon an edict came, delivered by one of his subordinates, commanding he go out and enjoy himself. This was actually the last thing Gulch wanted to do, pre-wedding jitters having set in, making the concept of fun a bit alien at the moment. Not to mention he was having vivid flashbacks to the trouble his last few drunken nights had brought him. Sadly, it was a _royal_ edict.

Problems beset the plan from the outset. Wyatt worrying-is-what-I-do Cain was immediately unavailable the second he discovered DG was going to be drinking somewhere on the Finaqua grounds that evening. Gulch was pretty sure the Tin Man was going to spend his night stalking after the princesses and having several litters of kittens. Jeb Cain was also out as he was on duty and unable to free himself up at such short notice. Ahamo was his father-in-law-to-be and therefore ineligible even if the cop had been willing to ask; Raw couldn't handle Gulch's current mental state; and nobody wanted to let Glitch near alcohol again, especially without Cain nearby to knock him out. The policeman was just thinking he was off the hook when DG, nemesis eternal, informed him she had a dastardly solution.

"Lord Bartholomew Fortius Fonteroy at your service," said the vaguely familiar young man who'd introduced himself to the cop later that day, "I'll be your BFF this evening."

Gulch blinked. "My what?" he asked.

The lord flushed. "That's what DG told me to say," he explained, "She said it was absolutely imperative that you have this 'bachelor party' thing and that it basically involves going out and getting loaded drunk. Since you don't seem to have a lot of available friends here the princess thought I was best suited for the task." Young Lord Fonteroy actually seemed proud of this judgement.

And that was how Gulch found himself sitting in a tavern some hours later, ignoring his beer and watching the noble lord's friends with misgivings. Lord Fonteroy himself seemed determined to stick with the cop and was so far keeping his drink total down. The policeman was less than appreciative, however. He had no idea why DG seemed to think the two of them would get along. As far as Gulch could tell, the young lord was entirely unaccustomed to thinking, deeply suspicious of anything resembling intelligent thought, and possessed of an alarming tendency of attempting to plot. He felt a great deal of sympathy for Cain, though; Azkadellia may have a pet mobat but DG seemed to have a pet drunk. The policeman was just about to make up some excuse to escape when he noticed Fonteroy looking around nervously. Come to think of it, he'd been doing that all evening.

"What are you looking for?" Gulch inquired.

Fonteroy jumped then leaned forward conspiratorially and whispered, "Keeping an eye out for Sir Wyatt Pain, Lord of Lurkdom. Not sure DG told him I was taking you out drinking."

Officer Gulch wondered distantly why the Tin Man would care, but he was distracted by something else the lord had said. "You speak of Wyatt so-much-as-breath-in-DG's-direction-and-you've-breathed-your-last Cain?" he demanded.

Lord Fonteroy blinked. Then a slow smile spread across his face and he hummed a speculative hmmm.

"Hn," responded Gulch, reaching for his beer. The naming war was on.

It took the two of them several hours and a great deal of alcohol to temporarily exhaust the subject. While the cop had always focused on Wyatt share-the-pain Cain in the past, he did make some forays into DG if-I'm-not-causing-trouble-I'm-not-awake Cain and Jeb son-of-Cain Cain. Fonteroy, meanwhile, had a lot to say on the subject of the Lurky Lord but waxed almost poetical in regards to the Living Glitchionary. Naming war reaching a truce, the two men moved onto drinking games and invited the cronies to join them. Gulch was quite surprised by how many they already knew but felt it behoved him to teach them a few more. Unfortunately, Fonteroy felt honour-bound to return the favour.

Officer Gulch surveyed the ridgepole of the roof dubiously. It was not only narrow and part of an extremely steep roof, it also happened to be two stories up. "Jus' who tol' you this wash a drinkin' game?" he asked.

"DeeGee," Fonteroy informed him, "Exshellent drinkin' bu'ee tha' un."

_Of course_, thought the cop absently. "Nememisheee," he muttered.

"Wha' choo gotta do," the young lord explained, "ish walk ta da otter shide an' back or you gotta take a shot."

The policeman's thoughts were a bit fuzzy but he was pretty sure he wasn't drunk enough for this. Or was it not sober enough? He wasn't sure.

"You kno'," one of the cronies interjected, "Didn' da Tinny Man lockshush up fo' dis?"

"Yesh," Fonteroy replied contemplatively, "bu' dat wash probe' my fault. Shoulda gone firsht ta make shure it shafe. No la'ees dis time doh, 'e of da Eyebrows of Dooooom 'ave no reashun ta app'er."

"Ey'bro'shof Doom?" a surprised Gulch asked.

"You 'av'n met da Aiebro's o' Doom?" the startled lord responded, "He o' da Shuittin' Punishmen' gets 'em wheneffa 'e's gonna getcha. Eyesh go li' dis," he slurred pushing his eyebrows down.

The policeman had indeed met the Eyebrows of Doom. He'd been introduced to them shortly after his first hello from Mr. Revolver. Standing near the end of the ridgepole, Gulch was fairly certain that he didn't want to do anything that would warrant another encounter.

"Dun worree 'bout i'," Fonteroy reassured him with a firm clap on the back, "No Deege, no Tin'an."

Whether Gulch would have been comforted by this was never known, the cop was more preoccupied by the sudden balance difficulties the young lord had induced. After a few frantic moments he'd managed to keep himself from falling by dint of strangle hold on Fonteroy's neck. Unfortunately, his struggles had upset his pockets in a manner that sent a small box residing within clattering down the roof to land in an eaves trough uncomfortably far below. With sobering foreboding, the cop remembered being handed that for safekeeping earlier in the day. It was a decorative little box, containing two platinum wedding rings. Azkadellia was going to kill him.

Swallowing hard, Officer Gulch stepped out onto the roof. He was pretty sure he didn't want to do this but he was _not_ going to be the one to spoil Azkadellia's day tomorrow. Managing to wobble his way to where he was adjacent with the box, the cop was contemplating how to descend the steep slope to the eaves when there was an interruption.

"_In the name of emeralds and eclipses_, _not again_!" someone bellowed from below.

"Uh oh," said one of the cronies, "we got incomin'."

"Be'er 'urree up," advised Fonteroy.

"_Gulch, get back inside!" _the Tin Man ordered before darting in towards the stairs himself.

The desperate man on the roof, meanwhile, had determined his next course of action and lowered himself to sit on the ridgepole.

"Gulch what are you doing?" demanded Cain, bursting onto the scene once more.

"Mus' you a'ways innerfere?" asked Fonteroy.

Ignoring the inebriated lord, Cain muttered, "I can't _believe_ this is happening again. Come on Gulch," he called, "crawl back here _slowly_."

Attempting to slide himself gradually down the steep decline Gulch shouted back, "I canna do dat. Gotta do dis, Azkadeeya'll kill me iffa don'."

"She'll kill everyone else if you do," insisted the Tin Man, "just get your butt back to solid ground before you fall off the roof."

He was too late, however, Gulch let go of the ridgepole and his slow slide turned into a careening fall. Rolling onto his stomach, the cop tried desperately to slow his progress then the world dropped out beneath him. Arms flailing, his left hand managed to snatch up the ring box while his right hand, a little more preoccupied with survival, latched onto the eaves trough and the policeman found himself dangling by one hand two very tall stories from the ground.

There was more yelling now. A small part of Gulch's brain noted absently that a great many of his subordinates had showed up to watch Old Gulchy's latest fiasco. Odd that, shouldn't they be guarding the princesses?

"Az, DG, get up here _now_," commanded the Tin Man.

"Bu' 'e canna see 'er before da weddin'," a drunken voice protested.

"If you don't get your butts up here _right now_ there won't be a wedding," Cain hollered back.

"Get moving, Deege!" another voice shrieked urgently.

Officer Gulch did wish they'd get a move on as his fingers appeared to be slipping.

"'elp!" he yelped as he lost his grip.

"Got him," someone crowed triumphantly and Gulch revelled in the rather familiar sensation of being shrunk and pulled through the air.

"_Az_!" DG said sharply.

"Hurk," gulped the cop as he was whipped sideways in a sudden change of direction.

"Sorree Gulsch," DG slurred, "can' see 'er 'til th' shermo'ee. Wha' you got der?"

As the last few minutes had been working wonders towards clearing the cop's head he wasn't entirely sure he wanted to have his entire being in the hands of someone as drunk as DG appeared to be.

"Ne'er mindat. Can I ge' big now?" Gulch asked.

"Um," she responded, her brow furrowing. Looking towards the shadows she asked, "How?"

_Oh come on_, the cop was protesting internally when he saw a movement out of the corner of his eye.

"Wha'!" cried DG, falling over as the mini Gulch shot back to full size in her hands. There was a few moments struggling before Cain stepped in to get them sorted out.

"You all right?" he asked his princess.

"No' th' butt," muttered DG.

"Look," said the Tin Man reasonably, "how about everyone goes to bed now."

"Can' do tha'," Lord Fonteroy objected, unwisely reminding Cain of his presence, "th' prinshesh was ve'y clare on dis. Gotta keep 'im out 'til dawn, 'owl at da moon. Dun kno' why da 'owlin's neshashary bu'tha's wha' she shaid."

"You," Cain growled, turning on the lord, "you need another lesson..."

"An' Az an' I," DG interrupted, "hafta 'ave la'ies on'y time wif da queen. La'ies on'y," she repeated, drunkenly stern.

"DG," the Tin Man protested.

"No!" she declared, spinning about haphazardly. "Come on, Az," she called darting unsteadily into the shadows and disappearing from sight.

Cain hesitated a moment then sighed and jerked a thumb in their direction ordering the gathered guards to follow the princesses.

"All right Gulch," he said turning back to the Othersider, "how about you call it a night."

"O' 'ave a 'eart LurkshAnninnymous," the young lord interjected once more.

"Fonteroy," Cain snarled ominously.

"Is da bro's, da bro's!" one of the cronies screeched.

"Ineffible wi' th' 'in Man 'ere," Lord Fonteroy continued urbanely, "bu' 'e mus' kno', is Gulschee's las' nigh' o' freedom. Baschlor par'ee is re...re...nee'ed."

Hands midway to chokehold, the Tin Man hesitated. As a two time happily married man the idea seemed ridiculous but...Cain glanced at the cop who was now frantically inspecting the rings for damage. He sighed.

"I guess you _have_ never done this before," he said continuing to look at Gulch speculatively.

Click.

The policeman looked down in drunken astonishment, there was something just not right about being chained to the Tin Man.

"Apparently you have to howl at the moon," Cain explained, "and _I_ have to make sure Azkadellia's groom lives until tomorrow. Come on you idiots, do _not_ think I won't be dealing with you later."

"Is th' way dis tings go," said Gulch and Fonteroy in unison.

"You hafta take a shot," Fonteroy added.


	17. Wedding Day

_Disclaimer: Things I do not own: 1) Tin Man and any characters therein that I am spending considerable time developing because somebody didn't make the series long enough to do it themselves (pointed glare), 2) Finding Nemo and any lines I may have corrupted for my own nefarious purposes and 3) a modified song to be seen shortly._

_Author's Note: This is the story that never ends, it just goes on and on my friends, somebody started writing it not knowing what it was and they'll continue writing it forever just because this is the story that never ends...Ok, so I told some of you recently, as I have told some of you before, that this story was coming to an end. This was supposed to be the last chapter before epilogue. Uh huh, riiiiight, like that's gonna happen. You guessed it, the second I thought 'my work here is almost through' Gulch jumped right up as if I was issuing a challenge. Apparently he wants to go on a honeymoon. Sigh. And since I have to put the story on hiatus while I study for and write exams, that means Gulch has a couple of weeks to add more if he so chooses. Arrrrgh! Sorry, I tried to finish it. At this rate by the time I actually get to write the epilogue – which I set a few years in the future just in case – it is not going to be an epilogue, just the next darn chapter._

_Author's Note 2: I worry about this chapter. Quality control passed it and refuses to look at it again citing that she will not feed my obsession, but it was never supposed to be its own chapter, just a footnote on the end of the last chapter. Unfortunately it was a very long footnote and had to go out on its own. Now it's a short chapter. I apologize if it disappoints, I did my best._

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Officer Gulch would, when he regained consciousness, reaffirm his opinion that bachelor parties held the night before the wedding were a bad idea. In fact, by the time he'd been allowed to clock out for the night he'd been fairly certain they were the Otherside's worst creation. On the other hand, he was pretty sure your regular stag party wasn't quite so death defying. He was almost certain DG was to blame. It was his last thought before the Sandman pummelled him over the head with a cement sack and the drunken groom was dead to the world.

Far too early the next morning, a cruel convergence of sunlight and his eyes, coupled with uncomfortable sensation elicited by his right arm's less than natural position, hauled Officer Gulch back into the land of the living. Throwing his left arm over his eyes to block out the sun, the cop attempted to do something about the alternate limb. He failed, there seemed to be some sort of constraint. Reluctantly turning his head, Gulch squinted in the direction of his right hand where there appeared to be something shiny on his right wrist. Oh yeah.

It had not been the happiest discovery ever when the Tin Man had realized DG had once again made off with his keys. After finally stopping Fonteroy's painful attempts at howling at the moon and convincing him the 'until dawn' timeline wasn't strictly necessary, both lawmen had been looking forward to getting some sleep; sadly the nemesis had struck again. A search was conducted; unfortunately both princesses had made themselves – and their keys – unavailable, so the handcuffed men were forced to make do. Cain had dropped the by then nearly comatose Gulch on his bed before attempting to stretch out on the floor beside it. No dice. In the end he had been obliged to lean against the bed frame and sleep half sitting up. Fortunately, the Tin Man was capable of sleeping anywhere.

Gulch tried again to yank his arm into a more comfortable position but the metallic click of a pistol hammer being drawn back made him freeze. _What_, he thought. Craning his neck gingerly to see why Mr. Revolver was awake so early in the morning, the cop made another discovery. Apparently some time during the night DG had joined them. She was currently sleeping snuggled up to the Tin Man, head on his chest and wrapped in his duster. Looked absolutely innocent and vulnerable, the little bane of his existence.

Cain squinted at Gulch a moment from beneath his fedora then holstered his gun.

"DG," he murmured into her hair.

The youngest princess merely mumbled and tried to nestle closer.

"DG," Cain tried again pressing his lips to her forehead.

_Oh come on_, thought Gulch.

"Mmm," DG hummed reaching up to pull the Tin Man in for a good morning kiss.

"Oie!" the cop interjected indignantly. So not what he wanted to watch this morning.

Breaking off the kiss in puzzlement, the youngest princess finally became aware of her surroundings. Catching sight of the handcuffs she giggled.

"If we could have the keys," her husband suggested mildly.

Groaning as feeling returned to his newly released arm, Gulch attempted to marshal his thoughts. He felt it was decidedly unfair that his nemesis be looking so darn chipper when he was feeling like he'd been hit by a bus.

"Um, did Gulch almost fall off the roof last night?" DG asked.

"Yes," Cain replied drily, "Perhaps someone should refrain from inventing insane drinking games and teaching them to the utterly brainless."

The cop, meanwhile, was frantically patting down his pockets. Sighing with relief, he pulled out the decorative little box that fortunately still contained the wedding rings.

"Maybe you should hold onto this for me," he said to Cain, "it's the best man's job after all."

Accepting the box, the Tin Man raised an eyebrow at the cop. "Best man?" he questioned, "Don't you mean Wyatt Mr.-Perfect-heartthrob-performing-every-deed-with-ease-and-making-it-impossible-for-the-rest-of-mankind-to-look-good-in-comparison Cain?"

Blinking is surprise, the policeman was amazed he was even capable of such a long thought last night much less that Cain could even remember it all in the morning. "I said that?" he asked.

"Well it sounded more like Wya' Mer-Perfe'-'eartrob-perfermin'-ev'y-dee'-wif-eeeshan'-makin'-i'-imp-oshible-fo'-da-resto'-mankinda-loo'-goo'in-'arishon Cain but I believe that was the general idea."

"Oh," replied Gulch blankly. Considering the matter absently, he continued, "Well I was wrong, you're not good at quite everything, you're a crappy driver." Oh uh, eyebrow alert! Eyebrow Alert!

Fortunately DG giggled again, distracting the Tin Man. "He's right, you know, but all you really need is practice. Maybe some Driver's Ed. Gulch should be qualified, ask him."

Officer Gulch's life flashed before his eyes. "DG!" he protested.

After a moment's consideration, Cain recollected that groomicide was not really an option and decided to come down on the side of humour. "I think that one was DG you-are-a-nemesis-I-shall-call-you-nemesis-and-you-shall-be-my-nemesis Cain," he mused.

Swallowing hard, the cop levered himself up in the bed to gauge the Tin Man's response to this.

"Don't worry Gulch, I can't exactly argue with that one."

"Hey!" interjected DG.

"Just don't say it again while drinking," Cain carried on, unconcerned, "that many s' makes a drunken man spit. A lot."

Settling back into the bed, trying to ease his pounding head, Gulch muttered, "Sorry about the nicknames."

"Not a problem. I prefer yours to Dr. Lurkiotomy."

"Oh," DG said suddenly, "I have to go help Az get ready for the wedding."

Jolted unpleasantly into full alertness, the cop felt his nerves team up with his hangover in giving his stomach a bad day.

"Get going," the Tin Man was saying affectionately to his wife, helping DG stand, "We men folk have things to do, too."

What those things were the policeman did not immediately learn. After pointing Gulch in the direction of coffee, Cain disappeared to places unknown. Much later, having been caught and outfitted by the royal tailor, the cop came upon the Tin Man setting up a row of tin suits in the back of the wedding hall.

"What are you doing?" he inquired incredulously.

"I promised they could attend the wedding," Cain explained.

"There are _people_ in those?" Gulch nearly yelled.

Stepping closer he recognized the face of Lord Fonteroy peering out through the glass. He'd even managed to contort around enough to waggle his fingers merrily at the cop.

"Don't you think that this will not be the best reminder for Azkadellia and everyone?" Gulch continued.

"Took care of that already," the Tin Man started.

"Hey, what's with this sign?" a new voice interrupted, "Pay no attention to the Idiot Court, they are currently multitasking. Let them remember that walking ridgepoles is _not_ a drinking game and nearly getting the groom killed the day before the wedding is considered to be intolerable behaviour. Do not open for one month or you will join them. Hey, what's with this sign?" Glitch continued.

Lord Fonteroy shrieked from within his tin suit.

"It's the only way they learn," Cain expounded, "I cleared it with Azkadellia first. For some reason," he smiled slightly, "she seems to be a bit peeved with them herself. Don't worry, it looked like they continued the party without us so they'll get to enjoy themselves for a bit, once I remove the Zipperhead, before the real punishment sets in. Besides, I've done this before a few times so everyone will know it was me."

With that Gulch had to be content as he was suddenly swept up in last minute wedding preparations. Head throbbing, feeling decidedly nauseous, the cop calmed himself by internally composing a diatribe to be delivered to his nemesis at the earliest opportunity. It worked wonders and kept him going right up until the ceremony when it occurred to him, as the matron of honour aka DG Nemesis Cain walked down the aisle, that this really wasn't the time. He rescheduled the lecture for the earliest convenience. Then Azkadellia glided into the hall and he forgot all about it.

Hangover magically disappearing, nerves evaporating, Gulch wondered briefly if nemesis was another name for fairy godmother. Then Azkadellia smiled at him and everyone else ceased to exist. So enraptured was he that it wasn't until halfway through the ceremony that the cop realized that everyone in the O.Z. was under the impression that his first name was _Officer_.

_And that,_ he thought, _is what you get for letting DG introduce you around. Oh well, just go with it._

This time the minister did not forget the additional line about kissing the bride. _No one_ dare mess up anything on Azkadellia's special day; though some did later point out that it was more a case of you may kiss the groom. The eldest princess had practically leapt on the policeman once permission was given.

The rest of the night seemed to pass by in a blur of highlights. Ahamo got his father-of-the-bride dance and the Queen was pleasantly surprised to get a mother-in-law dance. Azkadellia cemented the adoption of appalling Otherside traditions by throwing the bouquet while Gulch managed to get the garter to snag on Lord Fonteroy's tin suit. The young lord could be heard protesting from within, he may not be able to think but he wasn't completely stupid. They danced, they laughed, they ignored the open bar – Gulch found he didn't need it. Then at last it came time to go. Saying their goodbyes and walking out to their honest to goodness carriage, all seemed right with the world.

Click.

Princess Azkadellia looked down at her wrist in utter astonishment.

"My turn," said Officer Gulch.


	18. Honeymoon

_Disclaimer: I do not own the never ending story but apparently I'm writing one. Oh, I don't own Tin Man either._

_Author's Note: He's ba-ack. That's right ladies and gentlemen, exams are over and I've made my decision. Next chapter can be considered the end point for those of you who feel they are done with this story and would like to move on to other things in life. After next chapter we will be entering bonus chapter land. If said chapters happen to be in chronological order and story-like in appearance I'm sure that's just a coincidence. ;) The poll results were closer than I expected but definitely in favour of more, besides, Gulch dropped a dozen or so more ideas in my brain and it seems a shame not to use them. Also, there was this little message I received from nightdrive23:_

An Ode to Gulch.

Tis been to long,  
For which you have been gone.  
Return to us oh dear one,  
For the heart can feel no sun,  
No warmth, no joy, or laughter  
Without your relentless banter.  
Come back dear Gulch,  
I must say that it hurts to wait,  
(perhaps animegus farmus shall take this bait).  
Return to us oh sexy beast,  
So that in your misery we may feast!

_Right, like I can say no to that. I would like to take this opportunity to hand out some blame/thanks. First of all we have my demon reviewer nightdrive23 whose chapter three review was responsible for setting Gulch off into hyperactive muse mode in the first place. Queen Isabella, you are responsible for chapters 14 and 15. You probably don't know how you did it and I'm not going to tell you, I made the mistake of telling nightdrive23 and now I never hear the end of it. Bookworm Gal made me catch on to something I didn't even realize I was doing and thereafter got to have a lot of fun with. I would love to thank all my reviewers for their continued support and comments, and most especially KLCtheBookWorm, once the only reviewer for the little oneshot that could. It was probably all the encouragement Gulch needed to turn himself into a nuisance. Thanks, I hate you all. XD Just kidding, you're all wonderful._

_Now I shall end this ridiculously long author's note so that we may turn nightdrive23's oxygen supply back on. Enjoy (I hope)._

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...

* * *

Officer Gulch should have known this was going to be a bad idea. Truly, had he been given any time to reflect he would have instantly vetoed the notion. Unfortunately for the beleaguered Kansas policeman, he had been so busy ensuring that he and Azkadellia got to go on their honeymoon alone, sans extra royal guards, that he hadn't been paying the strictest attention to her choice of destination. Who, after all, wanted to honeymoon in _Kansas_?

It was not until the main battle had been won that Gulch had stopped to think through the potential complications likely to result from this extended holiday. Chief bodyguard to royalty paid well, true, but it paid well in decidedly O.Z. currency and while he did have savings on the Otherside, he was pretty sure he'd been missing long enough for someone to have frozen his accounts. If DG was to be believed – which the cop was sure she was – his petty cash had also taken a severe hit when the princesses had gone on their little shopping trip a few months back. The policeman had attempted to get angry at this little act of pilferage but the image of Azkadellia in a swimsuit promptly short-circuited his brain and he momentarily forgot the topic of conversation. DG, naturally, did not bring it up again.

Cash was not the biggest issue, however. Given that the crown princess' travel storm had abducted the cop without warning almost a year ago, Gulch's sudden reappearance was likely to cause a bit of a stir. He had no doubt that his disappearance, coupled as it inevitably would be with DG's, had been the talk of the town, and probably still was whenever fresh gossip was scarce. As a member of the admittedly small police force, Officer Gulch had been a fairly prominent member of the community and thus would not be able to escape notice if he were to be seen in a public place. And go out in public he would have to, seeing as they would require food at the very least and Gulch, unlike a certain Tin Man, did not feel comfortable with merely 'commandeering' whatever he needed.

The policeman had endeavoured to make these completely valid objections clear to the eldest princess but as always he was doomed at the outset. Three days prior to the wedding during the Gifting Ceremony, DG had informed them that as her wedding gift she had paved the way for their honeymoon trip: Officer Gulch's continued existence had been confirmed, his bank account unfrozen, and his absence accounted for. Said officer was more than a little leery as to _how_ his nemesis had gone about explaining his inexplicable disappearance but there was no getting out of it now. Azkadellia had her heart set on Kansas so Gulch once more braved a travel storm and turned his thoughts to more immediate concerns. First among these was how to unlock a door while attempting to carry your new bride over the threshold. Thank you so much DG for imparting yet another Otherside tradition onto the unsuspecting O.Z.

In the end, however, getting through the door was easier than the newlywed could have hoped. The police tape was a bit of a nuisance, but the door itself swung open easily given the broken state of the lock. Apparently his new sister-in-law, in her efforts to keep her gift a surprise, had used Wyatt brute-force-just-makes-life-easier Cain as a locksmith. Contemplating this development, the cop was vaguely annoyed. Really, would it have been that hard for her to steal his house keys the same way she constantly swiped Cain's handcuff keys?

Observing the room with an appreciative eye, however, Gulch decided he had to forgive DG. His fellow police officers were no doubt fuming somewhere in indignation that someone had, for all appearances, broke into a fellow cop's house and turned it into a love nest. He wondered if they'd hung around long enough to notice the rose petals weren't wilting and the ice in the champagne bucket wasn't melting. Hey, champagne. Setting Azkadellia down gently, Officer Gulch promptly forgot all about the bubbly when his bride gave him a coy smile and disappeared into the bathroom toting her luggage magically behind her.

Mental processes coming back online, the bedroom inspection continued. Gulch was all kinds of nervous and found cataloguing the added romantic touches soothing. Roses, check; champagne, check; bed – mental stutter – check...

"Freeze!"

...annoyingly intrusive, unwanted extra cop, check.

_Oh you've got to be kidding me_, Gulch thought indignantly turning around. Apparently DG's preparations had failed to account for certain contingencies.

"You are breaking and entering, put your hands on your head and..._Elmer?_" the intruder's voice jumped an octave in surprise.

"Hey Bentley," Officer Elmer Gulch replied wearily.

"What? How...? Why...?" Officer Bentley fumbled, lowering his gun, "_Where have you been?_" he managed at last.

"Erm, I can explain," Gulch started. _I hope_, he added mentally.

"I mean what the hell?" Bentley cut him off, "You disappear without a trace, don't give anyone any indication of whether you are alive or dead and then think you can just waltz back into town as if nothing has happened?"

"Well no..." Gulch tried again.

His fellow police officer, however, having worked himself into a fury, steamrolled on, "I don't care what high profile case you're working or how far under cover you had to go, you could at least have the decency not to leave everyone worrying about you. This town has had enough mysterious disappearances thank you very much. Did you know half the town was convinced you'd driven your cruiser into a lake on purpose in grief over DG? And the other half thought you'd had a nervous breakdown and probably got locked up in a padded cell somewhere?"

"Oie!" Gulch protested.

"We all know you were crazy about DG..."

_Gah_, the beleaguered man thought, making frantic negation gestures.

"...but no matter how much you loved her, Elmer, you gotta let her go."

Gulch's head dropped into his hands. _Oh please don't let Azkadellia be listening_, he begged.

"Seriously Elmer..." Bentley ranted on.

"Who are you, why are you yelling at my husband, and who are you calling Elmer?" Princess Azkadellia interrupted coolly.

Officer Gulch wondered if he'd be setting some kind of record should he end up sleeping on the couch for the duration of his wedding night. "He's Officer James Bentley," he replied, not daring to remove his face from hiding, "He is yelling at me because he is quite rightly indignant regarding my extended disappearance. And Elmer is my first name. Officer is my rank and title in the Kansas police force, DG seems to have neglected to include that detail when introducing me around."

"Oh," Az said thoughtfully, "I think I prefer Officer."

"So do I," agreed Elmer Gulch, looking up at last. Officer Bentley seemed to be frozen in shock, his mouth hanging open. Following his fellow cop's line of site, Gulch made an interesting discovery. _Oh._ That would, that would be a negligee. That would be Azkadellia in a negligee in fact. _Come on brain work,_ he chided insistently, he was pretty sure there was something he had to do.

"Ah, Az dear," Gulch managed at last, "that's, uh, that's not a company garment."

Pulled out of her abstraction regarding interlopers that dared yell at her Gulch, Azkadellia suddenly remembered her state of dress, squeaked and disappeared into the bathroom once more, leaving the two policemen staring after her.

"You know," Gulch mused absently, "sometimes I don't know whether to kiss DG or strangle her."

Shaking himself slightly, Bentley replied, "Uh Gulch, you can't do either."

"Oh I know," the slipper cop replied, "both options are completely suicidal."

"Riiiight," the Othersider said slowly, "Um, Gulch? Do you mind pointing that somewhere else?"

"Huh?" inquired the aforementioned police officer, tearing his eyes away from the bathroom door at last. He was interested to discover that he'd unknowingly drawn his sidearm and aimed it straight at Bentley sometime during the proceedings. Gulch wasn't sure what disturbed him more, the fact that the action had been completely unconscious or that Bentley had taken this long to notice the gun pointed at his head. "Oh, sorry," he muttered, holstering his weapon, "Been spending too much time with Wyatt I'm-not-possessive-I'm-just-careful Cain."

"Who?" his fellow cop asked faintly.

"The Tin Man, the reason why it is suicidal to try and do anything to DG," Gulch explained, "no matter how much of a nemesis she is."

"Gulch," Bentley said gently, "DG is dead. Remember?"

"Yes, and so was I according to you," Gulch refuted inarguably, taking the other cop's arm and pulling him towards the door.

"Wait! You mean...? But..."

"Tell you what," he continued reasonably still ushering Bentley along, "I'll stop by the station tomorrow afternoon – late afternoon – and explain it all. I imagine I'm going to have to deal with the Chief at some point anyhow, might as well get it over with, but tonight I would really appreciate it if you would get lost."

"Yes, but..."

"Look Bentley...may I borrow these? Thanks. Look Bentley, I just got married."

"_Married?_"

"Yup."

Click.

"What the hell?"

"Listen Bentley," Gulch stated firmly, "this is my wedding night, so what you are going to do is drive back to the station, get someone to set you free and explain that I am not to be disturbed. Anyone else barges in tonight and I'm afraid I just might have to shoot them. Tell you what," he continued with an understanding grin, "go to the bar and have a few drinks, tell them to put it on my tab. Now I'm sorry but I'm going to have to take these," Gulch apologized, removing a few select keys from Bentley's key ring, "if you had any idea what my life is like you'd understand why I need a spare set. Probably won't get to keep them long but it's worth a try."

Glancing towards the house, Gulch paused a moment in contemplation. "One more thing," he said, turning back, "can I have your pepper spray? There's no telling if I'll end up in another duel and it would be nice if I could get Glitch to make me some more."

Eyes wide, face uncomprehending, Officer Bentley let out a strangled gurgle.

"I'll take that as a yes. Thanks, I'll pay you back."

Gathering up his prize, Officer Gulch re-entered the house, leaving the hapless, bewildered Bentley behind, handcuffed to his cruiser steering wheel.


	19. Home

_Disclaimer: I do not own Tin Man but this plot (and Officer Bentley) belongs to the strange and inexplicable workings of the various parts of my brain._

_Author's Note: Okaaay, this was not supposed to be an epilogue, but like everything else in the story it just happened. Works out great in a way as my original epilogue got upgraded to full chapter and rescheduled to take place sometime later during the bonus chapter round. Also it's nice that you guys are getting some closure because – um, nightdrive23, you are sitting down right? – I am shortly to return home to the middle of nowhere and the land of dial-up internet. Anyone that is now cringing has experienced this internet hell; you could see how this would slow me down. It gets worse, however. Due to my parents plans to sell my childhood home and build a new one, I am going to be spending the summer with my ninety-something year old neighbour. I'm pretty sure she doesn't even have internet. So yeah, there is a good chance I am about to drop off the face of the planet as far as all things pertaining to the internet are concerned (just breath nightdrive23, it's gonna be ok). The good news is, due to my parents rather cruel sense of humour, I am going to be helping build the new house that is replacing my beloved home and will therefore have plenty of brain-free time to develop new stories and ideas. I have every intention of continuing to write while I'm gone, I'll even endeavour to post occasionally. The city is only an hour away, it's bound to have an internet cafe in it somewhere. Of course I'd need to be able to convince my dad to give me a day off (ha!) and that would really slow down getting things through quality control (do you think she'd get mad it I started reading my stories to her over the phone?). Anyhoo, that's the way things are, now on with chapter, sorry it's kinda short._

_PS Quality Control called me a tease after reading this, you'll see why, and before you ask nightdrive23 the answer is NO!_

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...

* * *

Officer Gulch couldn't say for certain whether or not he was actually enjoying his honeymoon in the Otherside, he was learning a lot, however. For one thing, don't take the formerly possessed princess of the O.Z. to see Mount Rushmore. Apparently Azkadellia had a deep rooted fear and hatred of faces carved into rocks. Not for the first time, the policeman made a mental note to demand an unabridged version of the Azkadellia Chronicles: My Life as an Evil Sorceress. He realized his new bride still feared scaring him off with the complete story of her past but it's not like that was going to happen. Really, the only reason he wanted to know in the first place was so that he could be prepared for these kinds of situations. Fortunately the damage had been relatively minimal and he had managed to smuggle Az away before the – less complacent – cops had arrived. He did hope they could reattach Lincoln's nose.

Interesting, Gulch felt, was the best word that could be used to describe his trip thus far, Officer Bentley's untimely intrusion having turned out to be something of an omen as to how the trip would go. Viewing things philosophically, as the Kansas policeman was now quite accustomed to doing, at least the whole 'crazy in love with DG' misconception hadn't blown up in his face. Azkadellia, as she quite firmly pointed out before insisting they move onto more enjoyable activities, had eyes in her head. Only a fool would think Gulch and DG's friendship was anything but the sibling-like relationship it was. Nemeses, Gulch had corrected with relief. He found it odd that Az would consider DG to be non threatening when she'd gone absolutely ballistic over a story involving an ancient and long forgotten crush. Then again, Emily didn't have Sudden Death standing at her elbow the way the youngest O.Z. princess did.

He wished that his meeting with the Chief had gone so well. The town sheriff had been highly indignant about the supposed high-handed appropriation of his highway patrolman by another agency. Officer Gulch had to admit himself impressed with DG's explanation as it was so darn close to the truth. In a perfect world the cop would have managed to convince Azkadellia to stay behind when he ventured forth to face the music. The eldest princess had not taken well to the notion of people treating her husband with such blatant disrespect. It took some time, but Gulch did eventually manage to convince her that she couldn't go around shrinking people on the Otherside. Officer Bentley's understanding of reality was probably permanently scarred.

In the end they only stayed a few days in the small Kansas town of Gulch's birth. Once the townspeople had learned that the missing cop had not only reappeared but also had a new wife in tow, not even Wyatt my-word-is-law Cain could have kept them away. Neither of the newlyweds had appreciated the constant interruptions, especially the ones that came bearing gifts. Nobody needed that many gravy boats. So it was that only three short days after his triumphant return, Officer Gulch paid his new bar tab (James Bentley could _drink_) and skipped town.

During what had become a whirlwind tour of the United States, Gulch often wished he had something of Wyatt male-ego-killer Cain's way with unruly princesses. No matter how hard he tried, the Kansas cop just couldn't seem to convince the O.Z. royal that while travel storms were certainly faster they were also an extremely disruptive way to travel. He could just imagine all the weathermen having fits right now. Admittedly, he had been tempted, when he realized the potential for free travel they had at their fingertips, to take a trip around the globe, but one moment's consideration of the international incident Az could cause if she decided to blow up, say, the Sphinx allowed him to resist. The risk just wasn't worth it.

It was a shame people couldn't be avoided as easily as places. That biker gang they ran into had probably been scared straight after Azkadellia's reaction to learning an Otherside meaning for the word 'crack'. Later, of course, Gulch had been forced to hastily explain the other definitions, since some sources of crack did deserve having a sorceress grade temper tantrum aimed at them, but others only required a belt. For a minute there the cop had worried they'd have to make a quick trip back to the O.Z. so that Raw could do some damage control.

All in all, Officer Gulch's new wife was doing an excellent job of keeping him on his toes. He had thought, naively perhaps, that he would manage better in a world where he knew all the rules, unfortunately this was not turning out to be the case. Instead the cop found himself to be as bewildered and unprepared as ever. Azkadellia may not have her sister's tendency to wander off with little or no warning but she was working from a rule book didn't exactly compute when applied to the Otherside. Even worse was the fact that the Tin Man's one-size-fits-all solution – point a gun at someone – wasn't a viable option in most normal-world circumstances. The second time Gulch had forgotten that they'd ended up on the wrong side of a police chase. It was terribly embarrassing for the cop.

That is not to say that the honeymoon was a complete disaster. Night time, in the policeman's humble opinion, was good time, and he was never going to complain about being chained to the furniture ever again. He was almost sure of that. Mornings, though, were Gulch's favourite. Nothing, he thought, could compete with waking up next to his Azkadellia. And he was pretty sure it would get even better when he got over his habitual initial panic at being in the princess' bed before remembering that he now had every right to be there.

Three weeks after their wedding the newlyweds returned to much fanfare and the enthusiastic embrace of the royal family. DG nearly tackled Azkadellia before they even got through the doors. Cain, naturally, was right behind her, if considerably more subdued. He and Gulch shared manly nods. The Queen and Consort were sighted shortly thereafter, practically running down the hall with joyful faces and arms open wide. Whatever their chosen greeting was, however, it was forestalled by a sudden high-pitched screeching.

Moments later something small and furry collided with Officer Gulch's face.

Click.

Kansas, it seemed, had not appreciated being left behind _at all_. He had somehow managed to lock one handcuff manacle around his middle, the other he had quite expertly attached to the policeman's right wrist. The mobat had also, everyone noticed with amusement, brought the cop a beer.

Chuckling softly, Officer Gulch felt a previously unnoticed tension ease. There was no place like home.


	20. Political Science

_Disclaimer: I own my Lords F and that would be about it._

_Author's Note: STOP! If you are reading 'Otherside Encounter' for the very first time, if this is your first introduction to the Gulch Verse, I highly recommend you go read 'A Dastardly Plot', 'The Courting of Officer Gulch' and quite possibly 'Tales from the Otherside' before proceeding. As anyone who has been hanging out with me since the creation of the Gulch Verse knows, this is the story that never ends, thus these so called 'bonus' chapters are just me ripping the whole thing right open again. Characters came to life in the companion stories that must, for the sake of continuity, be woven into the original tale. My gremlin promises to do the best it can to introduce them gently but it might be best to go meet them in their home stories so they don't come winging out of nowhere on you – I warn you, they are horribly musing so they are unlikely to go away anytime soon. So yeah, you might want to read the other stories first, or if you've had enough of the Gulch Verse, here's your chance to flee. As for everyone else, proceed._

_Author's Note 2: So it seems to be unanimous: the handcuffs must continue. Like I said, I don't see it being a problem (this story should have been called a 101 Reasons to use Handcuffs – _not_ that we are carrying onto 101 chapters...I really hope not anyhow...whimper) but I reserve the right to occasionally ignore them if, for some reason, they do not seem to fit. No sense killing the joke if it has managed to survive thus far._

_Author's Note 3: Yeah, I know this is ridiculous, but you try reopening a story without having a lot to say. Anyhoo, I had this certain schedule in mind, unfortunately muse and Quality Control decided to be a bit uncooperative so there is a good chance it may be a bit late – you'll see what I mean when I get there. My apologies, but I'm doing my best. And now, onto the chapter (which would have been posted yesterday if not for QC, she insisted on seeing the next chapter before she'd give the okay, you'll see why)..._

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...

Officer Gulch thumped his head down on the table with a quiet groan of agony and began pounding it silently with the rhythm of the truly tormented. His wife unobtrusively reached out to give his hand a squeeze that was at one and the same time sympathetic and admonishing. He wished he had her ability to pretend like he was paying attention – DG had apparently given Azkadellia an entire hour long lecture on the do's and don'ts of the Otherside without the then excited bride-to-be letting on that she hadn't heard a single word – but that particular skill seemed to have been left out of his police training, maybe because they actually preferred that cops pay attention. Sigh.

He'd been well aware that marrying a princess of the Realm was going to introduce certain changes – beyond the obvious – into his life. Some he'd been expecting: his being elevated to the rank of Commander of the Guard was much like Cain's being appointed the Moritanium General of the royal army upon marrying DG – one couldn't have a member of the royal family in the lowly position of advisor or commander of a mere protection detail. Of course, the Tin Man's promotion was more of a formality anyway, as the former head of the army had spent the last couple of years trying to rationalize to himself why all his subordinates, as well as himself, kept toeing the line to the orders of a civilian outside of the chain of command. It seemed that Wyatt I-can-do-no-wrong Cain was bad for more egos than just Otherside cops, and if no one else was bothered by the fact that his military experience was nearly twenty years out of date, Gulch wasn't about to argue; anything the Tin Man didn't know he'd be sure to learn, and he'd doubtless written all the books on war in a previous life anyhow.

The policeman's own promotion had been a far more momentous occasion as there hadn't been a Commander of the Guard in place since the restoration of the monarchy. Gulch would have liked to think that this rather tremendous, and potentially fatal, oversight was the result of the chaos of putting a country back together after a major decade and a half of upheaval, but actually it was due to the fact that Wyatt I-could-run-the-universe-if-you'd-just-show-me-where-the-controls-are Cain had been handling that particular duty as well and they just hadn't found anyone better suited to the task until now. Not that Officer Gulch was entirely sure he _was_ better suited to the task, but since even the guards not under his command had showed the alarming tendency to follow his slightest _suggestions_ since a certain assassination attempt, he might as well be in the position to give them orders. His first act as Commander of the Guard was to refuse point blank to form a protection detail responsible for his safety (funny how no one tried to foist bodyguards upon Wyatt I'm-bulletproof-anyhow Cain). In this he'd been supported by the newly appointed guard commander of Azkadellia's protection detail, who had made it clear that if anyone else wanted to attend the show they'd have to buy tickets (there was some furor over Officer Gulch's choice of new guard commander, given the man's penchant for treating the royal family as a royal variety show, but as the cop kept pointing out, Dawkins had a strong motivation to keep his entertainment safe – he'd also been thrilled with the pay hike with little real increased workload as everyone knew that Azkadellia's safety was going to be the Commander of the Guard's number one priority anyhow). His second act was to establish a proper – and familiar – uniform and set up regular inter-detail training regimes. This had led to another, smaller kick-up, as some of the nobles somehow got the idea that the Kansas cop was trying to convert the royal guard to some strange Otherside religion. Someone was going to have to explain that one to him someday.

Being sent back to school had been unanticipated, but not all that surprising; Officer Gulch could completely comprehend that, as the newest member of the royal family, he should actually know more about the O.Z. than the fact that insanity was born here and occasionally liked to send raiding parties over to the Otherside to force innocent bystanders to join the fun. It was somewhat aggravating to be reduced back to the schoolroom, especially given that he was the dunce of the class, most especially when the only other pupil in said class was _DG, _but resigned to the inevitable, the policeman had simply ensured that fencing lessons – the ones with the sharp pointy objects – were added to the curriculum and soldiered on. Now if only the mutt didn't feel the need to indulge his curiosity as to whether or not Othersiders had any magic in them – something Gulch felt he could have given a resounding no to _without_ being magically suspended from the ceiling for hours on end, thank you very much – life would be so much simpler. The cop was almost positive that DG my-day-would-not-be-complete-without-torturing-Gulch Cain had bribed Tutor on that one.

Having heralds constantly announcing your presence wasn't something he'd thought much on, nor was being 'Your Lordship-ed', but the one thing he truly hadn't been expecting – the advisors had been so adamant against it after all – was...

"Verily I feel it behoves upon me to humbly suggest to thee, Your Gracious and Ever Wise Majesties, that now that the constant and disquieting incursions by the insidious Longcoats have been halted in truth, not to mention momentous events of a far more – ah – favourable nature have been properly attended to, I really must propose that the Royal Army be commissioned with vigilantly scouring the entirety of our great and noble country that it may be cleansed of merest trace of their vile and injurious presence. There have been a myriad of fell reports of numerous loathsome stockpiles and erstwhile headquarters of these abominations within the Great Kells alone. This regrettable circumstance must, without even the most meagre of doubts, be the unhappy case in other portions of our illustrious Realm..."

...being allowed back into the council chambers. He'd been enjoying his ban, really he had. No complaint whatsoever, he'd volunteer to have it reinstated in fact, he could always get the summary from Ambrose later. Indeed, he would have to because...

"...I have here laid out here a rough but itemized proposition wherein I detail precisely the potential efficient division of the O.Z. into what I considered the most manageable quadrants, in terms of manpower and fiscal expenditure, for an extensive and effective search, with particular concentration on known troublesome locations..."

...Fastidium had only just gotten started and already the former small town cop was hopelessly lost. The Consort did once tell his least favourite son-in-law that, personality notwithstanding, Lord Fastidium was the epitome of a dignified noble that the cop would do well imitate, at least in terms of manner. Officer Gulch had replied acidly that if he ever thought he was becoming the least bit like the infernal windbag he'd willingly kiss DG full on the mouth just so Cain would shoot him and put him out of his misery. The cop was pretty sure the carnie had been joking, but since Mr. Revolver hadn't even twitched, he was pretty sure the Tin Man had agreed with him: one Fastidium was far more than enough.

"...Naturally all arrangements, orders, and dispositions visa vie the royal army would have to be duly cleared, authorized and authenticated by His Royal Highness, Lord Cain thus I have had several of my fellow lords meticulously review the initial plans and offer whatever knowledgeable consult they could..."

"What is he _saying_?" a horrified voice demanded from somewhere near the royal cop's elbow.

Rolling his head to the side so that he could glance at the wonderful interruption, Gulch muttered, "No idea, going to ask Ambrose for a translation later."

Eyes bugging out in alarm at the thought of having to converse with the headcased advisor, young Lord Fonteroy squeaked, "I don't need to know, do I?"

Sighing, the cop took a moment to wonder just what Lord Fonteroy Senior had hoped to accomplish by sending his thinking inept son down the council room in his stead. Azkadellia had attempted to explain that the old lord was trying, now that both princesses were no longer available, to use his son's supposed friendship with the younger members of the royal family to gain some influence. This was a reasonable enough plan in theory, as long as you ignored the fact that pretty well no one could actually take Fonteroy the Younger even the least bit seriously, especially after his inaugural speech of: 'my father says that you will listen to me, I don't see why you would but that's what he says, so he has given me a list of things to say for you to listen to, only I can't remember what they were so never mind.'

If only Fastidium would forget what he wanted to say...sighing again, the policeman answered quietly, "I'll let you know when Lord why-use-only-one-word-when-you-have-an-entire-dictionary-at-your-disposal Fastidium finishes orating."

Brightening, Fonteroy declared, "I don't think Thesaurus Rex is ever finished speaking," only to become immediately depressed by his own words.

"He would with the proper application of liquid cement and duct tape," Gulch opined wistfully.

"What are those and where can we get them?" the young lord demanded fervently.

"The solution to everything, unfortunately they are of Otherside make and therefore unavailable," the cop murmured absently, his wife had just shot him a glance out of the corner of her eye, perhaps he should be paying attention, "The closest we could get is asking Ambrose to try to reinvent it, and I wouldn't inflict headcase inventions on anyone, not even Fastidium."

"...furthermore the accommodation of the prerequisite troops would nevertheless require the strictest attention to the negotiation of fair and agreeable terms visa vie trespass upon the privacy and economy of any noble estates in the potentially long and laborious pursuit of this onerous but necessary duty..."

"I have an idea," Lord Fonteroy whispered after a moment's thought approximation.

"No," Gulch and the Tin Man hissed simultaneously, proving that the cop and brainless lord weren't the only ones who'd tuned out of the proceedings. DG's lip was twitching in a way that gave lie to the attentive gaze she had fixed on Fastidium, and while Azkadellia appeared perfectly riveted, her hand had wandered over to give her husband an admonishing pinch to the thigh.

"But I was just thinking," the young lord tried again.

_"No!"_

"If I could humbly beseech my esteemed lords," spake the incensed Fastidium, breaking off from his informative speech, "that if they do not deem it to be in their noble purview to attend to the grave concerns of our illustrious Realm, that they could at least maintain their doubtlessly pertinent discourse at a level that would not disrupt the..."

"Tell you what," Lord Fonteroy interrupted blithely, "let's go grab a drink at that new pub opening up and come back when he's gotten to the point."

"Ah, Fonteroy," Gulch began as about the room the assembled nobles selected from the reactions of scandalized shock and dawning amusement, both of which were an improvement of their previous stupor.

"What?" objected the young lord, "He doesn't outrank me, so I don't have to listen to him, and _you_ outrank him so you don't have to listen to him either."

A few more lords opted for dawning amusement; Dawkins was going to be so mad that he'd missed this.

"Your Majesties I must protest," a rather red-faced Lord Fastidium blustered, "this breech of all protocol and, indeed, noble etiquette must cease. I have here this day many great matters of import to review and discuss, I have yet to broach even the merest depths of mine most pivotal concerns."

"You have got to be kidding me," the Consort uttered faintly, horrified.

"Tell you what," Fonteroy suggested desperately, "we can drink _while_ he talks us to death."

"I second his motion," Ahamo stated ardently.

"_Dear_," the Queen admonished.

"Do you have notes prepared for today?" the carnie asked the lord in question.

"It would be remiss of mine self to do otherwise, Your Majesty, lest mine venerated but all too human brain forget something," Fastidium assured him, holding up a stack of papers that would put an encyclopaedia to shame.

"Great Gale!" Her Illustrious Majesty cursed, paling, "All in favour of moving this meeting to a more, ah, congenial location?"

Officer Gulch was pleased, but not entirely surprised, when the vote was unanimously in favour, it seemed even his fellow lords could only take so much of the pompous noble. "Alright then," he said with relief, "I guess we should-"

Click.

"But I haven't even done anything yet!" the cop protested automatically.

"You may have two beers," his wife informed him seriously.

"Do you think they even really need us there?" Gulch mused after a moment's contemplation of the cuffs currently attaching him to his young and beautiful bride. He loved watching the sudden shift in thought take place on Azkadellia's face as she contemplated the notion.

"If Az and Gulch don't have to go then neither do Cain and I," DG asserted, "And can I just say I like the preferred activities initiative."

"Ranking high on the list of things a father doesn't want to hear his children talk about," Ahamo cut in dryly, "If I, as Consort of the Realm, have to go listen to tedious advisors enjoy hearing the sounds of their own voices, then you, as future rulers of the Realm, have to go, too."

"Ah, but daddy," his daughters whined.

"I have an idea," Lord Fonteroy interjected.

"NO!" was the immediate response from everyone.

In the end it wasn't so bad, having cleared Fonteroy's suggested pub of all civilian presence, there'd only been a mere half hour of extended torture before the Queen had commanded that Fastidium's notes be handed over to Ambrose for perusal. The rest of the council business took surprisingly little time to go over, allowing everyone to relax over a pint or two, or whatever the proper measurement of their favoured beverage was. Well, that is if you were someone who could enjoy the often priggish company of the O.Z.'s nobles. Gulch, savouring the first of his two beer allotment, chose to use the time to satisfy a point of curiosity.

"Fastidium," he inquired carefully, "you know that time I punched you in the face at that royal ball?"

"Thou means when thou did strike my noble visage with thine leather clad fist and thereby challenge my illustrious personage to an traditional affair of honour at which thou did cheat mostly foully?" quoth the lord.

"Um, yeah, then," replied the cop, "what had you been saying to Azkadellia just before I hit you?"

"Dost thou imagine that I, busy and important man of state that I am, take the time and requisite brain power to memorize every utterance that doth fall from mine very lips?"

"No, ah, I s-suppose you wouldn't," Gulch agreed unsteadily.

"Does Your Highness feel it incumbent upon his royal self to mock a lord of his majesty's court?" the indignant Fastidium demanded.

"N-no, ha, no, ha-ha, that's not it," the policeman couldn't help but laugh, "it's j-just that _no one_ has any idea what that ridiculous duel was about."

Lord Fastidium opened his mouth to deliver what was doubtless a long-winded and detailed retort, unfortunately Officer Gulch, and indeed everyone, lost all interest in the stuffy noble when the Tin Man interrupted with the simple yet chilling phrase of: "Where's Fonteroy?"


	21. A Dastardly Otherside Encounter

_Disclaimer: I own not Tin Man or the 'I'm too Sexy' song which I mangled for my own purposes – please do keep the tune in mind or you might end up as confused as Quality Control was until I sung the line in question at her (terrible of me to do, I know) – blame the insanimometer._

_Author's Note: I meant to mention this last chapter – good thing I forgot because those ANs were getting out of hand – but there may be the occasional jump over to 'A Dastardly Plot' as we carry on, much like there was before, only this time I'll let you know when I'm doing it. Fonteroy is causing me so much trouble with this story integration thing, I spent a lot of time trying to figure out where to put certain chapters. As it currently stands, all chapters containing Gulch will remain in 'Otherside Encounter' while anytime Fonteroy decides to wonder off without his drinking buddy, the chapters will be shunted to 'A Dastardly Plot'...at least that's the plan. Sigh. Why do I even bother? Slave to the muse, table for one._

* * *

...

Officer Gulch had always known life wasn't fair, it was one of the first lessons you learned as a kid about the harsh realities of the world; life: not fair. Being well aware of this fact, the cop thought it particularly unjust that life seemed to insist on reiterating the message with greater and greater emphasis as if Gulch were a exceedingly slow child that wasn't capable of grasping basic concepts...

"I really must insist on accompanying you," Guard Commander Dawkins argued as his superior brushed past him.

"No," the Commander of the Guard replied firmly.

"It is my duty as the head of the eldest princess' protection detail," he tried again.

"No."

"But, sir, the possible dangers..."

"No," Gulch cut him off ruthlessly, "You are staying here and that's an order."

...If life was fair someone would have added a course of 'All Those Things That Are Common Knowledge in the O.Z. But May Not Exist in the Otherside' to everything else they were trying to cram into his head, because that would be really useful about now. Actually it would have been extremely useful several hours ago. After all, if life was fair, someone would have informed him that there were people outside the royal family in possession of a gift for magic or light or whatever they chose to call it. They would have told him that these people would be willing, for a few platinums, to hand a T.O.R.N.A.D.O, or Trans Ordinate Rotational Nimbus Automatic Displacement Operant, over to any idiot with a dastardly notion. If life was fair, he would have had this information _before_ accidentally giving a certain brainless lord a reason why he might want to give the Otherside a little visit...

"I'd hate to pull rank, sir, but..."

"You can't pull rank Dawkins," the cop fired back in exasperation, "I outrank you, by a lot. Look, Dawkins," he added as the guard opened his mouth for another attempt at persuasion, "I have to make sure Cain doesn't shoot anyone, ensure Azkadellia doesn't shrink anyone, stop DG from being DG, and, when we find him, prevent Fonteroy from doing any thinking whatsoever, I don't have _time_ to babysit you, too."

"I can help with Fonteroy," the guard said eagerly.

_"No! Stay!"_ Gulch ordered, slamming the door of his cruiser and slumping over the wheel.

...life just wasn't fair.

"He is never going to forgive you," DG opined from the back seat.

"Sure he will, next time I fall out of a tree I'll be back to being his favourite person ever," the cop muttered, sitting up.

"You are not to go falling out of trees!" Azkadellia commanded severely.

"Would love to comply, dear, but as Raw gives me exercises for hanging upside down every time I end up in rehab I have a feeling it's not really something I can prevent."

"You know," the Tin Man said mildly, before Az could truly get worked up, "Dawkins does have a point about half the royal family running off to the Otherside without a guard between them."

"If you want me to hire you a bodyguard Cain," the Commander of the Guard stated lightly, "you need only say the word."

The Tin Man snorted.

"That's what I thought," Gulch grumbled dryly, "I'd love to leave the majority of the royal family behind..."

"And miss seeing Fonteroy on the Otherside?" exclaimed DG, "Not a chance."

"...but since you'd all follow anyway, might as well keep everyone where I can see them. Can we go and get DG's dastardly BFF now?"

The travel storm dropped the cruiser gently down upon the highway only a few miles out of town, which resulted in the necessity for rather frantic defensive driving as the accident blocking a majority of both lanes practically leapt into view. Screeching to a halt on the wrong side of the road, Gulch peered out the window to see a rather incensed old harridan, also known as Ms. Beckley, bearing down on them.

"I should hide," DG said hastily, "I'm supposed to be dead."

"No you bl...asted well aren't," the policeman growled, slewing round in his seat to look at her, "that shi...nanigan ends right now, it isn't right and it isn't fair, to anyone."

"Oh? And how are we explaining why I suddenly disappeared and am not coming back?" the youngest princess demanded archly.

"Hmmm, let me think, you moved away?" Gulch fired back sarcastically, "No one thought you were going to stick around long, DG. You got pulled into the Witness Protection Program and you are very sorry for all the pain you may have caused but you are now free to let everyone know you are okay, end of story. And if you even _think_ of objecting Tin Man, I am punching you clear in the face," he added before thundering his way out to the cruiser, leaving three very stunned people staring after him.

"I think you hit a sore spot," he heard Azkadellia accuse her sister just before the door snapped closed.

It took almost half an hour for him to get clear of Ms. Beckley. True to form, the old battleaxe didn't care that the cop hadn't worked this highway since he'd also mysteriously disappeared almost a year ago, only reappearing briefly with a new wife in tow to let everyone know he was okay before vanishing once more. She didn't even blink at the supposedly dead DG sitting alive and well in his back seat. No, all she cared about was that some idiot had been flouncing about in the middle of the road, causing that never-do-well Carter to crash his old beater into her pristine Chevy classic. It seemed that in the absence of a yellow brick road, Fonteroy had decided to follow the yellow dashed line instead. This would have gotten the old terror of the high school mad enough if the lordly lord hadn't also decided that, as a noble, plebeian transportation problems were not his concern, merely checking to see that everyone was alive before referring them to Lord Linster and carrying on his merry way. It said something of Lord Fonteroy's shield of stupidity that he'd been willing to cross a woman that had been keeping teenagers in line for decades, Officer Gulch had always considered skipping her dance classes to be one of the bravest things he'd ever done.

In the end he'd had to radio in to the station to get someone to come deal with the mess, only to have Nancy the dispatcher patch him through to the chief, resulting in another fifteen minutes delay as the old man tore him a new one before ordering him off to check out a report of a stolen horse. Since that sounded like something Fonteroy would do, he complied. Groaning, the cop slid back into the cruiser and set course for Farmer Spencer's home quarter.

"Elmer Gulch!" Spencer was out the door bellowing almost before they'd finished arriving, "I want to know where you picked up the habit of lending out other people's belongings without so much as a by-your-leave or even a heads-up that you are back in town! I know your father taught you better!"

"What?" inquired the baffled Gulch, suddenly reduced to the status of unruly teenager.

"I heard a noise in my barn," the red faced old farmer howled, "and what do I find but some puffed up prissy boy mounting my Nellie and claiming that he's only _borrowing _the horse, that Officer Gulch could vouch for him. Now I wouldn't mind lending the old girl out to your friends but I would think you'd have the decency to ask me first. I don't know this Lord Barty Fluffinagging or whatever he chooses to call himself, how am I supposed to know he's trustworthy?" Spencer demanded.

Dropping his head in his hands, the cop wondered just what it was about him that made life think that he should have to deal with this crap.

"Your name's Elmer?" Cain inquired from the back seat.

"Shut it, Wyatt," Gulch growled.

"We are not calling him Elmer!" Azkadellia broke in, "Officer is a good name, and that's the one he's keeping."

Sighing as he closed the cruiser door on the argument, the policeman turned back to the incensed farmer and explained, "Look, Spencer, Fonteroy is a bit...special. He's not from around here and he doesn't really understand the rules."

"How 'special' do you have to be to not understand that you just can't go and steal a man's horse? And why is that only my horse get's stolen around here?"

_Because you live closest to the old Gale place,_ Gulch thought, but did not say. "How special?" he considered, "Let's just say that Fonteroy makes Bobby Gibbons look like a regular Einstein."

"Oh Good Lord!" the old farmer swore, "He went in the direction of town; go get him before he hurts himself."

"Or anyone else," the cop muttered, "Thanks Spencer, I'll try and get your horse back to you."

"No proble...is that DG in the back of your cruiser?" he asked sharply.

"Yup."

"Thought she was dead."

"Cat."

"Figures as much," Spencer uttered with a pragmatic shake of his head, "keep her away from my livestock."

"Will do."

Driving into town Officer Gulch was overcome with the strangest sense of déjà vu. Lord Fonteroy had apparently decided that Mrs. Middlebury's flowerbed was a good place to tie up Spencer's horse, further in the O.Z. native had obviously been greatly confused by the town's one stop sign, solving this dilemma by knocking it down, allowing him to proceed on to be distracted by the local liquor store. Paying the young idiot's tab, the policeman shepherded his charges onward only to discover that they were too late to catch up with him at the hardware store. Compensating yet another irate store owner who had been less than satisfied with Fonteroy's voucher of payment or the strange coins he offered in exchange for his entire stock of duct tape, the cop was remembering just what this trip was reminding him of when DG remarked, with far too great of interest, "Is that Roxanne?"

"Eh?"

"It _is_ Roxie, there's this one thing I've always wanted to try..."

"No!" Gulch said hastily.

"Bet I could turn her hair blue from here."

"_No!"_

"Do you realize you've been saying no a lot today?" DG asked as the flustered cop shoved her and the Tin Man out the door.

"DG..."

"Who's Roxanne?" Azkadellia inquired.

Gulch closed his eyes in a pained grimace. "No one," he replied hopelessly.

"How can you not know who Roxanne is...oh right, you fell asleep for that story," his nemesis added, oh so helpfully, "She's-"

"Not important," the cop cut her off desperately, "we have things to do, idiots to find, small towns to save from annihilation..."

His wife's eyes narrowed suspiciously.

"Tell you later," he tried again, "maybe," he added as Azkadellia quirked a brow, "probably never if I can help it," he muttered as the crackling of the cruiser radio drew their attention.

"_Calling all units, calling all units_," Officer Bentley's voice rang through the cab, _"We have a possible jumper on the old water tower. Repeat, possible jumper on the water tower. Requesting back-up, the man seems a touch delusional..."_

"_I'm not delusional, I'm a lord!"_ an emphatic voice objected in the background.

"_I'm going to try and talk him down, or at least into staying put. Medical support would be appreciated..."_

"What is he doing on the water tower?" Gulch asked of no one in particular.

"Maybe he likes a view?" DG piped up, oh so innocently.

Her brother-in-law glared at her in the rear view mirror.

Lord Fonteroy, they discovered when upon arrival, had opted to go for the highest point he could find, leaving him clinging stubbornly to the very top of the water tank. Officer Bentley, meanwhile, had situated himself at the bottom of the tank ladder so that he could try and reason with the young nincompoop. From where he stood on the ground, Officer Gulch didn't think that James had been making that much progress in his negotiations.

Gulch sighed, "Cain, do you mind?"

Click.

"Hey!" DG shrieked indignantly, tugging at the cuffs now locking her to one of the bottom rungs of the tower ladder.

"Sorry DG," the unrepentant cop murmured on his way past, "but I don't feel like falling off the water tower today."

"Wyatt," the youngest princess growled ominously.

The Tin Man twitched but remained steadfast. "Sorry, darling," he drawled in a much more apologetic tone, "but I don't want you falling off the tower either."

"I think someone is sleeping on the couch tonight," Gulch opined as he began climbing up the ladder.

"I'm not kicking _him_ out of bed," DG countered instantly.

Groaning, the cop muttered, "I so didn't need to hear that."

"Sir," James Bentley's voice carried down to them as they made the climb, "could you _please_ come down? Whatever trouble you may be in I'm sure it can be worked out, just come down nice and slow..."

"No," Lord Fonteroy insisted stubbornly, "I'm staying up here, I want to go home."

"And we'll take you home," Bentley tried again, "just come down and we'll call someone to take you home."

"Can't take me home," the young lord refuted, "forgot to pay for a round trip so I'm stuck until someone comes and gets me, which is why I'm up here."

"And how the _hell_ does that help you get home?" James huffed in exasperation as Gulch pulled himself onto the platform encircling the water tank.

"'Cause being up high makes the Lurk n' Tracker show up," stated the master of logic, "and where there is a Lurk n' Tracker there is a princess, which means a ride home."

"I'm sure your friends would be better able to find you at the station," Bentley attempted once more.

"No, he wouldn't, only tin men and Officers at the station, lords are found up high. Princesses, too."

Gulch sometimes thought it was scary how often Fonteroy's illogic actually worked, Bentley, meanwhile, was thumping his head repeatedly against the metal side of the tank in sheer frustration.

"Fonteroy," Cain rumbled in amusement and command, as he, too, climbed onto the platform, "get down here."

"Eyebrows of Doom!" the lord crowed in triumph, "_Told_ you so," he said pointedly to the flabbergasted cop as he scrambled down the rungs, "You're in the way," Fonteroy informed Officer Bentley as the policeman stood there dumbly, staring at the new arrivals. "Officer Gulch!" the young idiot carried on blithely, nudging James out of the way with his foot and shimmying the rest of the way down the ladder, "Have you ever tried Jack Daniel's sort? Nice of him to share with everyone, beats even Otherside whiskey."

_Oh god_, thought Gulch, _Fonteroy's been drinking._

"Elmer what..?" Bentley managed to choke out at last.

"Did I miss anything?" inquired DG, pulling herself up to join them.

"DG, how..?" Officer Gulch started only to cut off as she waved the keys at him. He should have known she'd have those.

_"DG?"_ James cried in shock and joy.

"Wait, James don't...Cain!" the beleaguered Gulch cried desperately.

_Snick_.

Too late. James Bentley froze mid-step, his arms stretched in preparation to hug position, as Wyatt I'm-too-paranoid-for-my-sanity-too-paranoid-for-my-sanity-gun's-going-to-shoot-you Cain, in one swift motion, hauled DG behind him and gave the strange cop Mr. Revolver's famous greeting. That he'd knocked his brother-in-law over the railing in the process didn't seem to faze him at all.

"Great, just f-udging great," Officer Gulch grumbled in resignation from his favourite hangout – random out-jutting scrap of metal that liked to catch falling officers, "Azkadellia, dear, a little help here."

"In a moment," the eldest princess replied as she, too, hauled herself onto the platform, "so help me, Cain, if he has one scratch on him," she threatened as she waved a hand to give her husband that all too familiar shrinking feeling, causing Bentley's eyes to widen even farther as mini Gulch flew through the air to land on the platform and spring back to full size.

"Put the gun away, Tin Man," Gulch all but ordered, laying a hand carefully on the muzzle, "James isn't going to hurt DG, he's just ecstatic to see she really is alive. Something tells me he didn't believe it when I said as much last time I was here."

"You didn't try to hug her when you found out she wasn't dead," Cain growled still watching the cop warily.

"Someone was holding a gun to my head at the time, what a coincidence," he remarked acidly, "DG, do something about your husband."

"_Husband_?" Bentley squeaked, causing the Tin Man's eyes to narrow dangerously.

"Wyatt, stop it," DG commanded, "he's an old friend and doesn't mean any harm."

After another moment's hesitation, Cain reluctantly let the gun fall, maintaining his position between his wife and the armed stranger.

"What's going on?" James asked faintly.

"Drink?" asked Fonteroy, offering him a bottle of Jack Daniel's.

"No, not drink," Gulch corrected, "Let's just get ourselves down-"

"Elmer Gulch + Marisa Middlebury," Azkadellia read from just around the bend of the water tank, "and it's written inside a heart, what does this mean?"

_Oh come on!_ Gulch protested, life wasn't just unfair, it was a right bi-

"Just childhood silliness, Az," DG said, coming to his, and probably Marisa's, rescue – wherever the heck she might be, "it doesn't mean anything. Just something kids do sometimes, painting names and initials on the water tower. That black smudge over there is where I wrote D.P. + DG Forever before coming to my senses."'

"Um _hmm_," the eldest princess hummed sceptically, her hand beginning to glow.

"Who's D.P.?" demanded Cain.

"She was ten at the time," Gulch huffed in exasperation, "no need to get worked up, can we _please_ get back down to the ground now before someone else decides to toss me off the water tower?"

"You know," James Bentley muttered as he stared at the Tin Man, "he looks familiar..."

"Never mind that now," Officer Gulch ordered, "everyone down the ladder, right now!"

"Oh good," cheered Fonteroy, "I don't like heights."

Staring after the idiot lord as he swung himself down the ladder, both cops could only shake their heads in disbelief. Ten minutes later, they were all safely on the ground and Gulch was feeling optimistic that he could bring this nightmare to an end...

"I've got it!" James declared, smacking a fist into his palm, "You look just like that composite sketch we have of the man suspected of shooting up a swimsuit shop about half a year back or so."

Everyone, except Fonteroy, froze in their tracks.

"Swimsuit shop?" Gulch asked in a quiet, quiet voice.

"Yeah, he freaked out at some poor boy for whistling at a girl, shot a security guard in the leg and led the police on quite a chase before losing them."

"_Cain_," Officer Gulch ground out.

"I like police chases," commented Azkadellia, "they're fun."

"Az!" DG and Gulch exclaimed as one. "Wait," DG added, "Why are you yelling at Az? Did you...you did! You got in a police chase with Azkadellia didn't you! Ha! Mr. Honest Cop hasn't got a leg to stand on!"

"_I_ didn't shoot anyone," Mr. Honest Cop fired back, "DG..."

"Wait," Officer Bentley asked the Tin Man, as the youngest princess took off at a sprint, the incensed cop right behind her, "Does this mean you _are_ the suspect?"

"Extenuating circumstances," Cain recited from rote, "it's classified."

"I still need to take you to the station for questioning..."

_Snick._

"...or not," Bentley said weakly, staring at Mr. Revolver uneasily.

"Don't argue with Lurking Death," Fonteroy advised him with a pat on the arm, "Drink?"


	22. Ordinary Day

_Disclaimer: For all the thoughts and stories that clamour in my brain, I still do not own the Tin Man universe, the Gulch Verse, however..._

_Author's Note: So thanks to my blabbermouth family, a few of my oldest friends now know about my little hobby here. Not only that but they gave away my pen name so that said friends can _find_ my stories. And they intend to, right after they watch Tin Man, in fact. I don't know when they'll get around to doing this but...Ugh! Scary! I don't know why, but having people I know read my stories worries me more than letting a bunch of people I've never met do so...ok, so I do know why but...ugh! *Shrug* Well, they already knew I was crazy, and they seemed to think it was a bigger cooler deal than it is, so peeps, if and when you get around to reading this I hope you do enjoy. Cheers_

_PS Quality Control says the ending is a bit abrupt, but then, it has to be._

* * *

...

Officer Gulch really felt, in a rather considering way, that he would greatly appreciate it, mark it as a favour even, if people would refrain from stabbing him, thank you very much. They could stop hitting him, too, he didn't like getting hit, or shot, it would definitely be an improvement to his day not to get shot. Looking down at the knife currently embedded in his left shoulder, the cop sighed in resignation. He didn't think that anyone was going to be making any effort towards improving his day...

...and then his assailant wrenched the knife back out again. _Ow_, protested the cop, _not supposed to remove objects imbedded in a wound._ He contemplated, distantly as he and the knife-wielding man resumed their deadly little dance, that those fencing lessons would come in handy about now...if he'd thought to carry a damned _sword_ with him. It would also help if the princesses could think to lend him a hand instead of acting like his own personal cheerleaders...

"Give me a G!" DG crowed, throwing her hands into the air.

"But I don't have a G!" Azkadellia objected.

"You don't need to have a G, just give me one," the youngest princess hollered back.

"A G for Gulch or a G for Gale?" the eldest princess demanded for clarification.

...of course it would be even more helpful if they weren't both higher than their father's carnie balloon. Potent stuff those vapours. Cain was going to kill him.

Five minutes, that's all, just for five minutes the Tin Man had trusted the Kansas policeman to keep an eye on DG while he led some troops into a system of caves Kalm had identified as a munitions depot of the defeated Longcoats. Gulch had been surprised when they'd taken the teen Viewer with them on their mission to clean up the abandoned outposts and stockpiles left behind in the Longcoats' defeat. Turned out Viewers, just like everyone else, had their own strengths. Raw, while he had some grasp of the future, was best at Seeing the past and healing wounds. The deceased Lilo had been the true master of the future and young Kalm found gazing into the present to be the clearest. Thus it was that they'd brought the teen Viewer whilst searching for things occupying the here and now, unfortunately that also meant that they'd brought a first aider when the cop was fairly certain he was going to be needing a doctor in short order. Stupid give the young ones experience mindset.

Cain had hardly been out of sight a minute before DG had decided she'd heard something and went tearing off in the opposite direction. Gulch had followed after her immediately, because where the youngest princess went trouble was sure to follow or be or appear, and Azkadellia had followed _him_ because, well, she did that. In 20/20 hindsight, the Commander of the Guard probably should have ordered some guards along, but he'd been more worried about DG running off a cliff than her actually finding anything she needed guarded from. Besides Dawkins had been a right pill ever since he'd missed out on the trip to the Otherside and might have decided to drag their 'guide' Fastidium along with as punishment, three weeks into their tour of the Great Kells the cop felt he could very much do without.

DG, naturally, had led them straight to an undiscovered cave that was not only filled with shelf upon shelf of bottled Azkadellia's vapours – those really needed to be renamed – and ingredients, it was also _occupied_. By a six foot five crazed former Longcoat vapour junky to be exact. Gulch had just enough time for his police training to throw out warnings about not shooting or disturbing things in a drug lab before the hairy unwashed had decided to become a bottle throwing, knife wielding crazed vapour junky. The cop had managed to duck the bottle as he interposed himself between the princesses and the former Longcoat, unfortunately it had smashed on the cave wall behind him, giving DG and Azkadellia a good lungful of the contents, resulting in...

"Give me a U!"

"A!"

"I said U!"

"Me?"

"No, U!"

"What about me?"

The drug addict slashed at the cop again. Gulch dodged back and to the side, trying not to slip in his own blood as he corrected back into the madman's path to the princesses. Glancing longingly to where his nightstick had been thrown early on in the encounter, he reflected that at least people high on the vapours didn't seem to want to wander much. The knife flashed out again. The policeman ducked in whirling motion that allowed him to spring up momentarily inside the nutter's guard, delivering a sharp uppercut to the druggies jaw and knocking him back a pace. Unfortunately, whatever brain cells the vapours might have fried, the man's fighting ability was unimpaired; recovering almost instantly, the crazed Longcoat swiped upwards with the knife, opening up a shallow gash from the cop's left lower ribs up to his right shoulder.

_Ow_, thought Gulch, back-peddling rapidly, _reason number one not to lend out your body armour to fourteen year old Viewers._ His bullet proof vest may not provide a lot of protection against blades but it would have stopped that slash.

Click.

_That did not just happen_, the cop thought in horror as he looked down at the handcuffs securing his left hand to one of the metal shelving units.

"Oops," giggled Azkadellia, "I think I missed."

"You _think!_" Gulch roared ducking, dodging and pivoting desperately around his pinned arm as bloodshot eyes identified the advantage and the junky lunged forward with renewed vigour.

"He yelled at me," the eldest princess said tremulously, "Officer yelled at me," she whimpered again, curling up into DG's comforting hug.

"Big meanie poo-poo," the youngest princess opined with a glare.

"I didn't...I wasn't...I'm not..._Dellia_," the cop gasped out in between frantic evasion manoeuvres, "_Ow_," he added as the knife left a slightly more worrisome gash up his forearm.

Azkadellia burst into tears.

And that, right there, was enough. Somewhere in the back of his brain, a police manual on proper procedure regarding drug labs and hazardous chemicals got tossed right out the window. Growling, the cop rolled forward on the balls of his feet as the madman struck out once more. Slapping aside the knife, ignoring the new wound to his hand, Gulch delivered a good old-fashioned, Otherside head butt, followed up with two punishing right hooks and a kick to the gut, forcing the crazed junky back exactly where he wanted him. Sucking in a deep breath, Officer Gulch grabbed the shelves trapping him and heaved; the metal frame tilted up, over and, with a cacophonous din, dumped its load of bottles and jars down on the psycho before the heavy metal shelves crashed down as well.

"Az, DG," the cop commanded in a controlled voice as he kept a wary eye on the multicoloured vapours started rising out of the broken glass, "_Run!"_

"You yelled at me," wept Azkadellia.

"And I'll apologize," he promised desperately as he searched his pockets frantically for the keys he'd taken off Bentley months ago, "on bended knee with grasping and grovelling and baked goods as long as you can manage to race out to the top of the rise before me."

"Will there be cinnamon buns and Death by Chocolate?" negotiated DG.

"Sure!" Gulch gasped with the last of his stored breath, finding the keys at last and ramming them into the lock, "Run!"

"Yay!" the youngest princess crowed, shoving her sister ahead of her, "Go, go, go, Az!"

The cuff attaching him to the shelves clicked open just as the various gases started mixing and turning rather lurid and worrying new colours. Gulch had always been a habitual jogger but today he decided he'd missed his calling as a distance sprinter, catching up with the princesses at the mouth of the cave and goading them forward as they scrambled up the pathway to the ridge beyond. Behind them an explosion ripped out from the cave mouth, the shockwave blasting them forward into the scrubby brush of the mountain.

"Yes!" hollered DG from the front of their heap, clambering to her feet to dance on the ridge top, "First! You hafta cook!"

"Sure, whatever," the cop huffed helping his wife to her feet despite the protest of his wounds which were taking the opportunity to remind him of their existence. He wondered when it had gotten dark out.

"Ooh, pretty," hummed Az as she glanced back at the rainbow coloured smoke drifting out of the cave. The trio stood a moment, admiring the little after explosions that sparked out of the cave like bizarre fireworks and swirled about in interesting patterns, or maybe that was the way he was swaying on his feet that did that.

"Yesh, tis," slurred the policeman, trying to shepherd them further away from the fires currently lighting the area. There was a commotion off to his left. Whirling about to identify the new arrivals, the policeman caught sight of a blurry duster and a rather familiar fedora as the world decided to do this funny little dance...

"Cain!" DG shrieked, throwing herself enthusiastically at her husband.

...which was a great relief because Officer Gulch thought this would be an excellent time to pass out.


	23. Spazkadellia

_Disclaimer: Muse has decided to be a bit of an issue so I don't have anything more interesting to say than I don't own Tin Man._

_Author's Note: So it has been brought to my attention that last chapter may not have been my best. Kind of annoying of Quality Control to agree to this _after_ she's told me it's postable. If she'd told me it was postable by not my best _before_ I probably would have done something to change it. And yes, QC, I realize you were falling asleep on your feet when you passed it *mumble* 'course I do better when I've got sleep dragging at my heels...though I am very well rested these days...maybe that's the problem. Hmmm, anyhoo, sorry to anyone who was disappointed, I shall try to do better._

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...

Officer Gulch was not enjoying his wake up call: he didn't remember ordering one and it was decidedly lacking in scantily clad princess – emphasis on princess, singular, with specification of princess, elder, lest bodily harm be forthcoming. Instead it was rather too full of Tin Man – thankfully completely clothed – a pounding headache, among other pains, and a raging thirst. Next time, he thought fuzzily, they came to the mountains in search of madmen hoarding happy gases Raw was coming with them if he had to draft the Viewer into the royal guard to make sure. That being decided, the cop figured he'd been productive enough that day, night or whatever particular time it might be and obeyed the commands of his heavy, heavy eyelids...

Cain shook him again, a bit more roughly this time.

"_Ow!_" opined the cop, contemplating glaring balefully at the man, but that would require at great deal more effort than he had energy for at the moment. He'd just have to make do with a groggy stare.

The Tin Man's lip twitched slightly. "Sorry Gulch, didn't want to wake you and all," he rumbled apologetically, "but if you could do something about your wife we'd all be very much obliged."

The policeman blinked. "Huh?"

Somewhere, in the distance, something went boom.

He blinked again. "Azkadellia?"

"When you passed out she decided you were dead," confirmed the Tin Man, "and we haven't had much luck convincing her otherwise. She's still on the vapours and you're probably the only one that can settle her down before she hurts someone..."

"Or herself," Gulch finished for him, attempting to sit up. The room whirled in a rather disturbing fashion and he considered, as the dark spots began dancing across his vision, that people who'd recently lost significant amounts of blood probably shouldn't be trying to do something stupid, like stand up...

Cold water splashed liberally across his face woke him up this time. "Where were we?" he asked.

"You're trying to stop your drugged up, grief stricken wife from annihilating the royal army unit we brought with us," Cain told him grimly, helping him to sit up slowly this time.

"Right," the cop gasped as the movement pulled at his various wounds, "she'd feel bad about that later." Pausing a moment to wait for the room to stop spinning, Gulch took a minute to examine the various bandages swathing much of his upper body. Between Fastidium and the junky, the cop was going to have a nice X marks the spot right across his bleeding chest, and if memory served – fuzzy as it was at the moment – the roundish scar on his left bicep had just been turned into a large exclamation mark. Who needed tattoos when you had a couple of princesses guaranteeing interesting scarring on a regular basis? "Where's DG?"

"Jeb's keeping an eye on her," the Tin Man replied, helping him to his feet.

"My sympathies to him," the cop huffed sincerely as he tottered a bit then steadied. A DG on drugs was not a DG he'd ever wanted to deal with.

"Incoming!" a familiar voice hollered from somewhere nearby.

It was a good thing Cain was so fast because the high speed bundle of hyperactive joyful energy aimed itself at the cop when it burst into the tent screaming, "Gulch, you're alive!" and leapt at him for what could have been the most painful hug anyone had ever received. Apparently inhaling vapours made you forget the little things, like how you shouldn't jump on the fellow with the stab wounds. Fortunately, the Tin Man managed to intercept her before she knocked the injured cop over – Gulch wasn't entirely certain he'd be able to get back up again.

"Father," Jeb pleaded, following the youngest princess into the tent, "do something about her. She's like a glitching five year old on a sugar high."

"You're not Gulch," DG inserted in a puzzled voice, "you're...you're Cain," she declared then she pressed closer and drawled, "Hel_looo_ Wyatt."

"Ah," the Tin Man stuttered, going beat red as he tried to stop the princess' wandering hands, "Gulch needs his wife...needs to _find_ his wife. Jeb..._DG_!" he hissed in embarrassment as she started sucking on his earlobe, "Darling not right...you're not...here..._No,_" he gasped, trying to twist away.

"_Yes_," she breathed, pursuing.

"Well," remarked Gulch as Cain continued to fend off DG, "I've seen more than I want to see. Jeb do you mind..._Jeb_, hey Jeb," he called raising his nearest approximation of a good arm to snap his fingers in the horrified face of the young lieutenant. The cop was mildly surprised to discover Azkadellia's handcuffs were still dangling from his wrist. "A little help here, Jeb, I need to go find Dellia and the ground won't stop moving. Let's leave your father to his honourable struggle not to take advantage of his wife shall we?"

Jeb Cain shuddered to life, throwing an arm around the policeman to aid his wobbling steps towards the tent opening. Behind them, the Tin Man backed hastily across the tent, gently slapping DG's hands away as he went. Outside was absolute chaos: half the soldiers seemed to be in a strange battle with the local birds of prey as the other half raced about with extreme care, scooping up miniaturized soldiers lest they be carried away by owls; DG's generally bored and extraneous protection detail was looking run ragged and were currently eyeing the tent with trepidation, from within came a tremendous crash that left the cop wondering fuzzily who had tackled whom before he remembered he didn't want to know; a number of the camp followers were fighting numerous small fires while off to the northeast sparked flashes of light that Gulch recognized from a memorable night when two drunken princesses had decided to throw refuse at him. If she kept up like this she was going to drain herself.

"Jeb, over there, _now_," he huffed.

The lieutenant complied, taking a better hold on the cop's waist and the arm thrown over his shoulders – _ow_ – the boy took as much of Gulch's weight as he could as he lumbered them forward into a staggering trot. It took very few steps for the policeman to decide this wasn't a great idea, running around after donating a pint of blood was decidedly sick making, trying to race about after losing fair bit more than that created a whole new reality where nauseous was a state of being. Officer Gulch didn't feel so good...

"Look out!" someone yelled, causing Jeb to swerve sharply sideways in a jerky move that the cop would have protested strongly if he hadn't been endeavouring not to heave his stomach contents all over the lieutenants shoes. He succeeded but ended up missing Fastidium going flying over their heads to crash into a tree.

"You!" Azkadellia's hysterical voice rang out through the trees, "You stabbed him with a sword, fought with him, talked and talked and talked at him with long involved sentences and very big words! Don't you know you are supposed to use small words and short sentences? He was so bored and this was your idea to come out here and...and...and now he's dead!"

"I beg a thousand humble pardons, Your Highness," Lord Fastidium gasped, struggling to his feet, "but I assure you that reports of his untimely death are nothing but a hallucinogenic effect resulting from the neurological reaction to gaseous-"

"No more talking!" the eldest princess shrieked, slashing her glowing hands through the air.

"Down fool!" Dawkins hissed, appearing from the shadows to knock the lord out of the path of the fallen log that'd been launched at him. The space around the enraged princess was becoming rather clear of movable objects as the rest of Azkadellia's protection detail flitted anxiously into and out of sight, trying to get closer, or at the very least herd her away from the cliffs that were far too close for comfort.

"Yer Highness, please," a guard Gulch couldn't see begged, "jus' please calm down. He ain't dead, gonna be fine in fact, jus' _please_ come back ta camp an' see fer yerself."

"Don't _lie_ to me!" she wailed, turning on the Gillikin, "I saw him, he fell and he wouldn't wake up, because you can't wake up when you're dead. They don't wake up, _they never wake up_!"

"Azkadellia!" Gulch rasped, trying to get her attention but she was too distraught.

"He was trying to protect us and we were useless and he's _gone_ and he was the most oblivious, tactless, blind, undiplomatic, stubborn-"

"Azkadellia, I'm right here!"

"-kind, gentle, caring, thoughtful, attentive, warm hearted, wonderful man ever and he's _gone_!" she cried, "And I'm still here and I shouldn't be, the O.Z. shouldn't be, nothing should be, gone, gone, gone," she chanted as her skin began to glow eerily.

_"Azkadellia!"_

The cop wasn't entirely sure how he managed to cross the remaining distance so fast – or indeed at all – but the world seemed to have decided to right itself for the moment, long enough for him to...

Click.

Such a small sound, but it was the sound that reached through her drug and grief clouded state at last, the eldest princess froze, her eyes fixing on the handcuff manacle that was attached to her wrist, that was chained to _his_ wrist and he...

"Dellia, it's okay, I'm okay, we're going to be fine," Officer Gulch murmured gently, "just try to calm down. Please."

Dilated brown eyes stared up at him in disbelief, studying the bandages, examining his face...then she reached out and jabbed him right in the chest wound.

"_Ow, sonofabi...llionbugnutratba...dminton_...could you _not_ do that again," he gasped, staggering slightly from the pain.

"Nonsense sentences," Azkadellia whispered tremulously, "you're alive, you _are_ alive, it's really going to...going to..."

"Shh, it's okay, dear, it's okay," he hummed to her, trying to force his limbs to cooperate. The adrenaline rush was wearing off and reality was starting to get a bit wavy again. When the eldest princess burst into tears and threw herself forward into his chest, he braced himself as best he could and managed not to keel right over. It helped that he had a couple of guards on hand to hold him up: this was most definitely not a good time to faint.


	24. Missionary

_Disclaimer: Given the number of characters I've created, I actually own a great deal at this point, sadly Tin Man and its characters still belong to someone else._

_Author's Note: Hope everyone enjoyed their Christmas, or their Hanukka if they had that instead, or any other holiday you might choose to celebrate. I was going to write you a bit of a Christmas gift – actually I still am – but do to issues with my muse and the fact that I was busy enjoying my own holidays I fell behind on my schedule. Am now trying to get it out before New Years, hope nobody minds._

_PS fancyfarmer has made my day by drawing and posting another of my requests: 'Glares of the O.Z.' is now up on her deviantart page, I will be adding the link to my profile shortly. Hope you like._

* * *

...

Officer Gulch didn't wish for a great many things in life, but what he did wish for was very near and dear to his heart: he wished for health and happiness for those he cared about; he wished that the O.Z. could hurry up and figure out that Azkadellia was _not_ the Sorceress so that he could stop worrying about some grief crazed person with a gun or a knife or a club causing harm to the most important person in his life; and he wished he could beat the ever loving shit out of whoever claimed their trouble with the Longcoats was over. He would also very much like to spend less of his time being suspended upside down by his ankles. That would be nice.

"This," said a voice near his ear, "is your fault."

"Oh, I'm sorry," snapped the cop, "I didn't realize that I was supposed to _let_ you kidnap me." His wife was never going to let him out of her sight again, which was a bit backwards considering _he_ was the Commander of the Guard.

"What idiot goes and starts fighting his captor halfway across the Crack in the O.Z.!" his wannabe kidnapper shrieked.

"The kind that is still healing from his last debacle and is less than enthused by being dragged into the next," Gulch replied.

"We are suspended over the Crack in the O.Z., over the _Crack_ and you start fighting me then!"

"I was unconscious earlier!"

"_We are stuck hanging upside down over the Crack in the O.Z.!_" the former Longcoat screamed back, hands fisting as he swung back in preparation to punch.

"That's a bad idea," the policeman advised then sighed as he was obviously ignored. The first swing went wide but the second landed with enough force to persuade Gulch to give his would be captor a lesson in fighting while inconveniently attached to your opponent.

Trouble with Longcoats, Officer Gulch mused as he let his abductor discover the recoil principle for himself, was certainly far from over. Granted the Sorceress had been defeated and the war with her minions had been won, but not all of them had been captured or killed which meant there were a few dozen or more men running about the O.Z. with little means of subsistence outside of good old fashioned banditry. This may not be trouble on the scale of a threat to the existence of the realm, but it certainly was annoying to any member of the royal family they might choose to kidnap for ransom. And then there'd been the 'abandoned' stockpiles...

Gulch's supposed captor glanced a blow across the cop's shoulder, which he returned with a punch to the gut and an elbow to the nose on the rebound.

One had to wonder who would be deemed responsible for the rather grievous lapse in security that had allowed a former Longcoat to get close to members of the royal family in the first place. Given that the cleansing of the O.Z. was a military operation this technically put the blame on the Tin Man's doorstep, as the royal army should have scoured the forest for threats. On the other hand, as the Commander of the Guard, Gulch probably should have assigned a protection detail to the spouse of the eldest princess – aka him – since he hadn't done that, and wasn't going to do that, it really was his own fault if he got kidnapped...or assassinated, which, given his wife's response to the last time he 'died', probably wasn't a good idea. Still freaking out almost a week later, she'd barely been willing to let him out of her sight long enough to step in the bushes to relieve himself; it was rather rude of nefarious persons to interrupt.

The nefarious person in question jounced heavily against the line as he attempted to land an uppercut under the policeman's chin. He missed his intended target but bloodied Gulch's nose just fine, jouncing the line again as the pardonably annoyed cop swung back in to deliver a well executed head-butt. Stars were the sight of the day as both combatants twisted and flayed at each other wildly and-

_Creak_.

-Officer Gulch swore internally as he, with the practiced effort of many bizarre physical therapy sessions, hefted his torso upwards into the pike position-

_Snap_.

_Click_.

-and slammed the handcuffs his wife had yet to retrieve from him into place around their ankles, preventing their long fall to a swift but painful death as the tether the Longcoat had strapped to them while crossing the line across the Crack snapped under the strain.

"_Ow_!" his ballast protested as they were brought up short after on the quick drop, "that's digging into my leg."

"You're welcome," the cop replied ironically. He really was going to have to thank Raw later, his knee wasn't bothering him one bit. "Why, may I ask, does it always have to be me?" he pondered as they dangled above the raging river far below, "Half the royal family wandering about the country and you have to go after the most expendable one. I was having myself a pretty good week, too, aside from the stab wounds: quick trip back to Central City to patch me up, had a great excuse to leave Fastidium behind while we were at it, wife all about reaffirming life...and then _you_ have to crack me over the head with a rock. Why me?"

"Because it's suicidal to go after the Tin Man or the Crown Princess, the Queen and Consort weren't there, and the Sorceress is scary," the Longcoat bandit informed him reasonably.

"Azkadellia is _not_ the Sorceress," Gulch stated flatly, "The Sorceress was the result of the clash of personalities when some bitter old hag violated my wife's childhood mind and took up residence. What I really want to know is how she convinced you idiots to follow her."

"We were creating a glorious realm of eternal darkness," the former Longcoat insisted stubbornly.

"Great, then what?" the policeman enquired.

"What?"

"I want to know what you were going to do next. Supposing your psychotic body stealing leader had managed to blot out the suns for all time, what then?"

"Well, we were...er...going to...go on with life?"

"Nope," the cop contradicted, "then you were going to witness the end of the world."

"What?"

Gulch sighed. "No sun equals no light ergo no warmth which results in global winter and the death of all living things, either from the cold, a lack of food or a lack of oxygen. Well, maybe the cockroaches and a few bacteria would manage to survive a bit longer, but that wouldn't really help you much."

"I'm sure the Sorceress would have ensured our survival and the continuation of the realm," the Longcoat argued weakly.

"Yeah, because the witch really strikes me as someone who cares for others," the cop commented sarcastically.

"Our families were supposed to be looked after," he hollered back in denial.

Officer Gulch paused before asking quietly, "How'd that work out for you?"

And to that the former Longcoat had nothing to say at all. He looked disturbingly young when he wasn't talking.

"Well there's nothing I can do about it now is there," the kid bit out angrily.

"You could turn yourself in," the policeman suggested.

"Sure, and spend the rest of my life in prison, if they don't execute me outright."

"It needn't come to that, DG was fairly opposed to capital punishment last I checked, and I don't believe they've been executing prisoners out of hand. In fact I know this fellow who's got a certain amount of influence with the royal family, might be willing to put in a good word for you. I can't promise there'll be no consequences, whatever crimes you may have committed you'll have to answer for, but I figure it's better than letting your mistakes ruin the rest of your life."

Several moments passed as the boy thought about it. "You do realize," he said at last, "that I just tried to kidnap you."

Gulch performed an upside down shrug. "I'm feeling a bit Zen at the moment; besides, the last time I got abducted I ended up getting married to the most beautiful woman in the world-"

"Ha!" a voice crowed triumphantly from the cliffs above them.

"-doubtless that has left me a bit more lenient in that regard, and are you just going to stand there or are you going to give us a hand?" he demanded acidly, craning around to look at the group standing on the ledge staring back at him, "And how long have you been there anyway?"

"Long enough to know you're looking to start a new reclamation project," responded DG.

"Not so long as to see how you ended up in that position," added Dawkins regretfully.

"DG didn't want to interrupt you," Cain rumbled in amusement, "but we'd better let Az know we've found you before Kalm's assurances wear off. You'll be secure until she gets here?"

"Sure."

"Secure?" the Longcoat objected emphatically, "we're hanging by our ankles on a rope over certain death and you think we're secure?"

"Welcome to my life," was all that Officer Gulch had to say in return.


	25. Skinny Dipping

_Disclaimer: I've been mining Shakespeare for lines again, well, not mining really, they just come to me – high school English made useful! – and I still don't own Tin Man._

_Author's Note: So Quality Control decided to give this the most confusing pass ever. She declared you would like it but she didn't and that it was fluffy and funny but felt like filler. And it was only when I texted after her that she deemed it postable, so I don't know what to think. On the other hand, these are bonus chapters with a schedule here and I'm already behind. I liked the chapter; I hope you will, though I warn you it is a bit short. __Consider it to be an interlude if you will._ Cheers

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...

Officer Gulch slipped into the heated waters of the natural hot springs with a sigh of content. All in all he figured he deserved a bit of relaxation after weeks of running about the O.Z. in search of trouble. His stab wounds were healed; his new 'reclamation project', as DG had dubbed the young Longcoat, had been shipped off to the forests and mountains of the Gillikin country where he could both seek redemption and prove that his wish to do so was genuine; and no one had tried to shoot, stab, kidnap or otherwise harm the policeman for well over a week now. The cop may be endeavouring to find a way to attach a sword to his utility belt just in case, but as the sweep of the O.Z. was drawing to a close without further incident, and since the guard Azkadellia had so interestingly dubbed Grumpy had assured him that his fellow Gillikinese wouldn't toss the kid, who was bidding fair to become Gulch's new number one fan, over a cliff without great provocation, the Commander of the Guard felt free to introduce his wife to one of the age old traditions of the Otherside: skinny dipping.

There had been some difficulty in bringing Dellia around to the idea as Gulch hadn't wanted to push and Azkadellia had been raised with near Victorian sensibilities that were at turns extremely irritating and downright adorable to the modern Otherside man. This being so, the eldest princess of the O.Z. had balked at the notion of being outside, where anyone might find them, completely unclothed, despite it being a dark night with only a sliver of the second moon to provide any light. Well aware of this social minefield, if not entirely sure how to tread it, the cop had been ready to abandon his plan at the first sign of reluctance that might indicate he was about to put his foot in it. Fortunately for Gulch, however, while Azkadellia might feel certain constraints regarding her state of dress when in what might be considered a public place, she was very much in favour of getting him naked whenever the opportunity might present. A happy coincidence, that, as the policeman fully reciprocated the sentiment, and while there was a good possibility that his wife would show up wrapped in a tent, having sent her guards to scour the surrounding area for anyone that might happen to wander by, at least the natural bounty that southern lakes had decided to provide them with would not go to waste.

Standing in the soothingly warm waters, watching a cloud pass over the waning moon, the cop smiled as behind him he heard the unmistakeable splashing of someone stepping into the spring, followed by the rippling sound of wading as she slowly made her way to him. Closing his eyes, taking a deep, relaxed breath, the policeman contemplated that it had been quite some time since he'd done anything like this – in fact, if he recalled correctly, the _last _time had been somewhere in his late teens or early twenties and had involved a uncomfortably cold river rather than a delightfully warm hot spring, the experience had been less than fun. A hand reached out to caress his backside...

...and froze.

"_Who's there?_" the voice he had not been expecting hissed urgently.

"DG?"

"_Gulch?_"

"Gah!" Officer Gulch yelped, diving into the water and setting a new record for the 50 meter freestyle as tried to put as much distance between himself and the youngest princess as he could.

"Wah!" DG agreed as she backpedalled hastily to the far side of the pool, "Oh yuck, oh gross, I touched...I touched...oh gak," she opined, scrubbing her hand off in the water, "Out, damn'd spot! out, I say!" she shrieked, "My hand's contaminated, I'm going to have to cut it off, ewwww!"

Gulch, meanwhile, was doing an intensive study of the tree before him as expressed himself on the matter. "_Sonofabi..lliousbackbitingfu...neraldirector'snutsa...lmon..._What. Are. You. Doing. Here?"

"Skinny dipping, what does it look like?" DG fired back.

"I don't know, I'm not looking," the cop declared hastily, "I'm not looking now, I wasn't looking before, and I'm not looking ever."

"Where're your clothes?" the youngest princess demanded.

"Far too close to you, and there is no way in heck I'm going anywhere near them with you over there, so how about I stare at this nice tree over here – I think it's a willow – and you get your clothes back on and get out of here before Cain..."

Click.

"...shows up," the policeman sighed in resignation.

"Care to explain?" the Tin Man asked evenly. Was that a touch of humour in his voice? Gulch certainly hoped so, because while the two lawmen had developed a great deal of trust in each other, finding your wife in naked proximity to another man was the kind of thing that might change a gun happy fellow's outlook on friendship. It would have been nice to get a look at Cain's face, but having caught site of a decidedly bare ankle in his peripheral vision, the cop had a notion that looking up wasn't something he wanted to do at the moment.

"Great minds think alike?" he ventured after a moment.

A chuckle ghosted over the waters of the hot spring then there was the unmistakeable sound Mr. Revolver's being returned to its holster. Gulch didn't even bother to wonder why Wyatt must-be-prepared-to-shoot-someone-at-all-times Cain was even still wearing his gun belt; he probably had his hat on, too.

"Sorry 'bout that Gulch," the Tin Man drawled in definite amusement, "habit. Now if you'll excuse us, I think DG and will have to find ourselves somewhere else to swim."

"Sure, sure, fine, go...you mind unlocking me first?"

There was an ominous silence.

"You don't have the keys on you do you?" the cop muttered hopelessly.

"No," admitted Cain, "DG?"

"I don't exactly have pockets at the moment," the youngest princess pointed out, "besides, Azkadellia should be along shortly, she can let him loose."

The policeman would have argued but he was getting tired of directing all his comments to a tree, however nice a one.

"I'll see what I can do," assured the Tin Man as he began gravitating towards where DG was currently splashing her way out of the spring.

Gulch grunted doubtfully. He'd be willing to bet, if he weren't prohibiting the finishing of any thoughts related to Cain and DG at the moment, that the youngest princess had every intention of making the Tin Man forget the existence of anyone else in very short order. Tugging half-heartedly at the cuffs attaching him to the rather inconveniently placed tree, the cop wondered how he was supposed to explain this to his wife. It was decidedly _not_ his night...

"Well, well, well," a much more welcome voice inquired silkily, "what have we here? Have you been a _bad_ Officer?"

...and then again, maybe it was.


	26. A Dastardly Duel

_Disclaimer: If I made a New Year's resolution to own Tin Man do you think it would come true...oh wait, that's wishes. Sigh, don't own._

_Author's Note: You know what? I have to stop creating new characters, I have too darn many already and you haven't even met them all. Seriously, I am going to have to develop a few more personalities just to keep track of them, brain-brain is getting a little full – that or I need more sleep. I was getting plenty but then certain family members and friends of the family decided we'd play cards until 6am and now I'm back to playing catch up, sigh. On that note, Happy New Years everyone._

_PS This, by the way, is one of those chapters that make me regret letting Fonteroy wiggle his way into the Gulch Verse, if only because it left me in a quandary where to put it._

* * *

...

Officer Gulch was a fond believer in the Otherside maxim that you learned something new every day. Today he was learning that it was possible for a person to lose their mind even if they'd never had one to begin with. Truly, Fonteroy had lost it this time; there really was no other explanation for...

"You need what again?" the cop asked in utter disbelief.

"A second," the young lord explained, "for my duel with Fastidium."

Gulch blinked. Of all the things he might have expected to find on their return to Central City, learning that the peaceable but dangerous young idiot had engaged himself in something so strenuous and serious as a duel was not one of them. "Lord Fastidium challenged you to a duel?" he reiterated blankly.

"No, I challenged him," Fonteroy corrected, "he wasn't able to on account of him still be in the infirmary at the time."

"You challenged a man in a hospital bed to a duel?" Cain repeated disapprovingly.

"Oh he wasn't in his sick bed when I challenged him," BFF assured them, "I'd already knocked him out of it."

"You'd..." Gulch began, dropping his head into his hands, "No, I'm not even going to bother," he stated wearily, "When did this happen?"

"Not long after you left," the lord informed him blithely.

"That was weeks ago..."

"Well I had to let him heal up first," Fonteroy pointed out reasonably, "rude not to, besides, I needed a second."'

"What's wrong with your friends?" the cop inquired.

"Never been in a duel, don't hold much with violence, you on the other hand..."

"I'm not violent!" the policeman objected, "Why don't you ask Cain?"

The Tin Man raised an eyebrow.

"Too scary," the young lord stated irrefutably.

Cain looked decidedly smug.

"Besides you've fought Fastidium before," Lord Fonteroy added with strangely boyish candour.

Gulch sighed in resignation. "I hate getting up at the crack of dawn," he muttered.

"We're not fighting at the crack of dawn!" BFF uttered, horrified, "Tell I'll meet him sometime in the afternoon, I'll be up by then."

"Sounds like a plan...Wait, I had a choice about that?" the cop demanded accusingly of the Tin Man.

"Technically yes, but usually one fights around sunrise to prevent people from interfering," Cain admitted, unrepentant.

"Yes, because it would be a shame if people interfered," Gulch grumbled sarcastically, "Does anyone know what this duel is about?"

"Of course," Fonteroy stated in surprise, "who fights a duel if they don't know what it's about? That's like planning to do something without knowing why, seems a silly thing to do. The Lord of Words had it coming; someone had to shut him up."

"You managed to silence Fastidium?" the startled cop asked, overcoming his chagrin at being called silly by Fonteroy of all people, even if the young lord himself didn't realize it.

"No," Lord Fonteroy confessed glumly, "but it was worth a try."

Very much in sympathy with the noble, but wise enough not to say so lest it give the disaster planner ideas, Gulch merely assured him that all would be arranged and ushered him out the door. "You don't suppose Fastidium will kill him do you?" the cop wondered with a touch of unease. The young idiot was a pain, but he was a likeable pain and duels were too much like potential premeditated murder for his policeman's soul.

"Shouldn't think so," the Tin Man opined after a moment's pondering, "Lord Fonteroy is a peer after all, and if Fastidium refrained from killing a mere commoner, I doubt he would a fellow noble."

"Hey, I won my duel!"

"Barely," noted Cain.

"Oh stuff it," grumped Gulch, "I have to go babysit Fonteroy and make sure he doesn't show up drunk for the duel. When, by the way, did I end up on Idiot Lord Duty?"

"About the time you became his drinking buddy I expect," the Tin Man replied with a certain degree of satisfaction.

"Well I ain't keeping him, he's DG's pet drunk which makes him your responsibility."

Cain merely smiled enigmatically.

The day of the duel dawned bright and clear, not that Lord Fonteroy was aware of it. He was dragged out of bed sometime well after noon by his second who he exasperated by taking a leisurely brunch followed by a session of 'what shall I wear to the duel' so long it would have put any Otherside clothes horse to shame. By the time Gulch had managed to haul his principle out to the courtyard where the duel was to take place, the royal guard, under the direction of the crown princess, had assembled a set of make-shift bleachers already filled with spectators, Cain had collected Raw and ordered Glitch elsewhere, lest he detract from what little concentration Fonteroy may have, and Lord Fastidium was in full bluster mode about the irregularity of the proceedings. Dawkins was beside himself with both unrestrained glee and mild concern regarding the current activities of his favourite drunk. To his credit, even Fastidium seemed to have reservations regarding his duel with a person of questionable intellect.

"If mine esteemed and youthful opponent can discover within his unfathomable mindset to beseech mine pardon for the grievous and undeserved slights and nefarious assault upon my person, I shall find it within mine merciful and generous self to acknowledge his supplication with a withdrawal from this unnecessary altercation with no loss of honour to either of the noble parties," Lord Fastidium orated on sighting his adversary.

"What?" Fonteroy asked with a pained glance at his second.

"I think he wants you to apologize," Gulch murmured reassuringly, "He'll call off the duel if you do."

"Apologize?" the young lord repeated indignantly, "Of all the cheek, _I'm_ not the one in the wrong. Have at you," he yelled owlishly at the older noble.

Fastidium sighed. "Very well then, though this event grieves mine self terribly," spake the windbag as he took his position, "it is mine undesired obligation to render onto you essential lessons of noble behaviour and gentlemanly conduct. Be you relieved that I shall endeavour to avoid any permanent or serious harm to your noble personage in the execution of my duty."

"Oh good," Dawkins' voice carried over the courtyard, "saves me from having to shoot you."

Sending his underling a quelling glare – which was ignored – Officer Gulch steered Lord Fonteroy onto the field then stepped back as the combatants drew their swords and saluted one another.

"This," opined Cain as Fonteroy got distracted by the way the sun shined off his blade, "is going to be a slaughter."

Fastidium waited patiently until he regained his opponent's attention then, with a call of 'en garde', whipped his sword out in a precision stroke intended intimidate. Nobody even saw Fonteroy's blade move, but there was a sudden clash of steel on steel then a few pieces of lace from Lord Fastidium's cravat fluttered to the ground.

"This is my lucky coat," the young lord informed the flabbergasted crowd, "princesses always reject my suit when I'm wearing it, kindly don't damage it."

For a moment nobody moved then Fastidium picked his jaw off the ground, and taking on a serious mean, crossed swords with his challenger once more. This time everyone was able to discern Fonteroy's movements as his wrist flicked about deftly to counter the older noble's rapier while his eyes tracked a pretty butterfly that had chosen to flutter across the field.

"Fonteroy," his second hollered in half-laughing awe, "pay attention to the duel!"

"Oh right," chirped the young lord, refocusing, whereupon life got exceedingly more difficult for Lord Fastidium. A decent swordsman the pompous noble may be, but it seemed his vacuous peer was a natural.

"Where's the popcorn?" Dawkins demanded with glee as the unpopular lord found himself being pushed steadily back.

"You know, Cain," Gulch commented a moment later as Fonteroy neatly parried Fastidium's desperate offense, "as strange as it is to be saying this, I think the next time I get in a duel I want the BFF to be my second."

The Tin Man merely grunted his agreement as the young lord whipped his sword about in a complicated manner, sending his adversary's weapon spinning across the courtyard.

"We didn't inhale any vapours this morning right?" the cop heard DG asked her sister, "This is really happening?"

"Apparently," Azkadellia replied as Fastidium's dagger went the way of his primary weapon.

"Do you yield?" demanded Lord Bartholomew Fortius Fonteroy, his sword at his fellow lord's throat. Sadly Fastidium was so astonished by the turn of events that he found himself utterly and miraculously speechless, leaving Fonteroy at something of a loss as to how to proceed. "How do you make him yield?" he complained.

"Stab him in the leg!" a voice from the stands suggested.

"Dawkins!" Gulch snapped.

"Okay," the young lord responded brightly.

"Fonteroy! Don't..."

"Bloody moonless blackness of a witch's withered heart!" bellowed Fastidium, shocked back into verbosity as he collapsed clutching his thigh, "The infernal nincompoop pierced mine leg on the veriest whim of a lowly guard!"

"Do you yield?" his opponent queried again.

"Thou hast deprived me of both mine legally appointed weapons in this affair of honour, hast wounded my limb most grievously without cause, and hast mine self prostrate upon the ground and thou is unable to comprehend the completion of this duel is in thine favour?"

Perplexed, Fonteroy shot a pained glance at his second, "Is he yielding or not?"

"Probably," interjected the Tin Man, "but you could spray him with Gulch's mace to make sure."

"Cain!" the cop protested.

"I yield!" Lord Fastidium shrieked, trying to backpedal on his elbows to put some distance between himself and the dread weapon.

"Why am I the only one acting as an adult here?" grumbled Gulch, "Fonteroy, back off, you've won the duel and made your point, let Raw tend to Fastidium now."

"But I haven't," objected the champion.

"Haven't what?"

"Made my point," Fonteroy informed him.

"Well make it then," the exasperated policeman huffed, "just don't stab Fastidium anymore."

"I am very thirsty," the young lord declared loudly.

"Eh?"

"I said I am very thirsty," he repeated louder still.

"Fonteroy what are you...?" Officer Gulch began only to be cut off by a brief clattering followed by a flash of movement as Kansas streaked through the air to land on the young lord's shoulder.

"Mobats," Lord Bartholomew Fortius Fonteroy stated solemnly, "are not evil."

Everyone stared at him.

"They bring you beer," the young lord finished happily, accepting the little mobat's offering.

"Fon-te-roy," his second ground out, "Have. You. Been. Teaching. Kansas. To. Bring. You. Beer?"

"Course not," Lord Fonteroy replied merrily, "he brought it on his own, friendly little guy, you think Fastidium would like one?"

"I don't know," replied Officer Gulch in an offhand way, "why don't you see if he'd like to share yours."

"Wha..."

Click.

"Hey!" Lords Fonteroy and Fastidium protested strenuously.

"No, no, no, no, no," the younger lord asserted, "I get put in the suit, I do something wrong and I get put in the tin suit and the Glecture tells me again and again what I've done wrong and then they let me out. The Lord of Everlasting Boredom is not part of the deal..."

"Is that so?" the cop murmured as he scooped up the mobat still cling to Fonteroy's shoulder.

"I must vehemently protest," the older noble objected at the same time, "the perceived offense for which you do rightly feel the need to mete out the requisite punishment hath nothing to do with mine self, wherefore doth thou find the rationale to compel my participation and, indeed, include me in the undeserved misery that is that brainless simian's continued company..."

"Undeserved?" the policeman questioned, straightening up, "I wasn't paying attention to most of what you said but that was because I was busy having a little epiphany, I realize it's nearly a year late but it just occurred to me to wonder what you were doing giving Azkadellia a mobat if you thought they were evil. Doubtless there were all sorts of those political reasons that I am just too thick to understand so I'll just go for discouraging similar actions, and I know from experience that being chained to someone you'd really rather not be is an excellent punishment."

"Mobats aren't evil," Fonteroy interjected hastily, "never said they were, just called 'em creepy and nasty but Kansas isn't, he's the cutest bringer of beer ever..."

"Yes, and as adorable as that might seem as a spontaneous onetime thing," Gulch explained, "but there is something decidedly wrong about making a habit of encouraging to a toddler to fetch you beer, presumably Fastidium will be knowledgeable enough to enlighten you on the subject."

"Dash it all! No I say," the young lord cried in alarm, "anything but that! Cain! Help!"

"No really, Your Highness, verily I implore of your gracious lordship..."

"And that," added the Tin Man, looking all too pleased with himself, "is how you end up on Idiot Lord Duty."


	27. Ebenezer Gulch

_Disclaimer: How I do not own this, let me count the ways: I do not own Tin Man, nor do I own The Christmas Carol, I don't own the Randy Travis song, nor do I own The Wizard of Oz or the Nutcracker or The Night Before Christmas, though reference to the last two are so fleeting as to possibly go unnoticed, and I do not own a certain corporation to which I made reference. I can't remember if there is anything else in here I do not own. Oh, I don't own the English language, but I shall use it as I please._

_Author's Note: Merry Christmas!...okay so I'm a bit late on that one. My humblest apologies, I tried really, really hard to get this done on time, but when the trade-off was a sacrifice of quality I had to slow down. Besides, I was kind of busy having my Christmas holidays. Now I'm back at school and it's already trying to kill me. Plus I want my marks! Emphatically! Sigh. Quality Control delayed this somewhat, you may blame her for excess Fastidium since she insisted I let him finish speaking. He's growing on her. Double sigh._

_PS Those of you who have not read 'Tales from the Otherside' might want to do so first, it is not absolutely vital but it might help with the mindset. Ta._

* * *

...

Officer Gulch managed – barely – not to slam the door as he stormed into the room he liked to refer to as The Couch. It was a comfortable room, in fact it was the room he'd occupied for the latter half of his time as Azkadellia's bodyguard and adjoined onto the chambers they now shared. He'd decided, much to DG's amusement, back when he'd married her sister, to leave the room as it was rather than re-tasking it to some other purpose so that in the event of wifely displeasure he'd have somewhere more comfortable to sleep than a sofa. Not that Dellia had ever banished him to The Couch before, in fact she still hadn't: Officer Gulch had cast himself into exile for the inexcusable crime of being a complete and unremitting ass.

There had been absolutely no reason for him to blow up like that. DG had merely been making a suggestion, a rather natural one in point of fact. The youngest princess may have been born in the O.Z., but the majority of her memories were in the Otherside, its traditions and ways very much a part of her. It really shouldn't have been a surprise that with two Othersiders and two Otherside acclimatized cyborgs on hand that the Nemesis should try and recreate a few of her favourite Otherside holidays and celebrations. She'd had no reason to think anyone would object; Ahamo had shown himself to be enthusiastic about reminders of the world he'd left behind, and who after all, didn't like Christmas?

Ebenezer Gulch, please stand up.

Azkadellia had looked so excited, too. He could fully comprehend what a holiday celebrating peace, love, family, charity, and forgiveness would mean to her, and if he could have ripped his tongue out the minute he'd started flying off the handle he would have done so gladly. Unfortunately he'd been too locked up in an emotional response that he'd been unable to control and Y-chromosomally incapable of explaining, in the end all he'd managed to accomplish was to haul himself out of the room before he made it any worse.

Flopping back onto the bed, Gulch sighed. Why did no one ever beat the stuffing out of a person when they actually wanted someone to? Cain had merely watched with an inscrutable gaze while everyone else just stared in astonishment; Ahamo, who likely would have been more than willing to oblige the cop, hadn't been there, and the guards were too chain of command conscious at all the wrong moments, darn them. Closing his eyes in a pained grimace, the policeman wondered if he ought to do something to annoy Fastidium, the pompous lord would likely be more than happy to hand out the drubbing Gulch's sense of justice seemed to demand, if given the right provocation. Of course, a duel would likely upset Azkadellia worse than she already was...sighing again, he hoped that DG had managed to mitigate the damage somewhat. Burying his head under a pillow the cop willed this wretched day to end...

...it took a very long time to fall asleep.

...

He was awakened at some indeterminate hour of the night by a loud clattering and banging. It was followed shortly after by a strange tumultuous clinking and a dull thud.

"Ow!" a voice complained, "Who put dat der? Not s'posed ta be der."

"Fonteroy?" Gulch asked blearily, groping for the light, "What are you...wearing?" he switched mid question as the lamp lit up to reveal his 'guest'.

"Thish?" the young lord answered happily as he jangled his strange attire, "thish ish the chain I's forg'd in life, made i' drink by drink an' flag'n by flag'n."

The cop blinked; that sounded almost familiar.

"You's got one, too," Lord Fonteroy informed him cheerfully, as he resettled the rope of bottles and flasks wrapped around him, "'cepting it's got 'andcuffsh connectin' da bottles an' shtuff."

Officer Gulch was getting an uneasy feeling about this. "Look Fon-"

"WHOOOOOOOO!" the drunken noble cut him off, howling and leaping forward with a tinkling clamour.

"Gah!" exclaimed the startled cop, jumping back, "Ow," he added as he crashed into the headboard, "What the he...ck did you do that for?

"Dunno," Fonteroy shrugged, "s'posed to, that an' tell you sometin', on'y can' 'member wha't'was. Someting...someting 'bout spirits...would'ya like some spirits?" he asked, rifling through the bottles, "Think I gots some Papay spirits 'ere. 'Course iffin I's gonna be visit'd by three spirits, I'd ratha be visit'd by Jack Daniels, Cap'ain Morgan an' Odderside whishkey, can haff Papay spirits anytime I want."

The Otherside policeman groaned in sudden comprehension. "This," he muttered, "is either a bad dream or is actually happening, and the scary part is that both are equally likely. Alright Fonteroy, I've got the message, you can stop haunting my bedroom now...WHAT ARE YOU DOING?"

"Gotsta go out da window," the drunken lord explained.

"Oh no, you are not," Gulch growled as he hauled Fonteroy back from the casement.

"Bu' I's s'posed to," the idiot noble objected.

"I don't care what you are supposed to do," the cop stated firmly, capturing the BFF in a headlock and dragging him across the room, "you are using the door!"

"Well dat does make mo'e sensesh bu' I's not da one in charge."

"Thank God for that," the policeman opined emphatically, ejecting the lord from the room, "even if this is a nightmare, they say if you die in your dreams you die in life as WAH!" he bellowed in surprise as he was suddenly bowled over by a being of smaller stature.

"My turn!" crowed DG as she bounced up off of him.

"DG. Bedroom. Middle of the night. Not good," Officer Gulch muttered, slightly disorientated, "Wait," he said, recovering, "what are you doing-"

"I'm the Ghost of Christmas Past!" the youngest princess chirped jubilantly.

"Past? Funny how you seem so present then," he grouched, getting to his feet, "And I don't think sooooYIPE!" he yelped as he was flung across the suddenly enormous room, "Not out the window!" he added as DG snatched his tiny self out of the air and threw up the sash.

His Nemesis, naturally, just howled with laughter and leapt.

...

Prying one eye open warily, the cop took a moment to peer around. "Oh good," he heaved in relief, "I'm not dead. I thought you weren't supposed to travel storm so close to buildings."

"Do you recognize this place?" DG intoned dramatically.

"Of course I recognize it, I grew up here, it's been less than two years since I left and I've been back to visit since. Furthermore, you know darn well where we are, you've been here often enough."

The crown princess of the O.Z. scowled at him and griped, "You are wrecking the script!"

"Bah humbug," the cop replied with a roll of the eyes.

"That's better," she said, mollified.

"Elmer!" a new voice hollered from the house, causing him to freeze in utter and complete shock, "Dinner's ready, come into the house!"

"D...G," he rasped at last, "_When_ are we?"

His answer came in the form of a small boy who waded through the snow screaming, "Coming Mommy!"

"You are positively adorable in that tiny parka," the crown princess cooed, "we should have brought Az."

"Experiencing a major case of cognitive dissonance over here, try not to interrupt."

"Oh come on," DG huffed impatiently, grabbing his arm and pulling, "I want to see them almost as bad as you do."

Officer Gulch didn't remember opening the door, but suddenly they were inside the house, surrounded by that warm, familiar atmosphere the cop hadn't even realized he'd missed until it wrapped itself around him once more. His mother was bustling about the kitchen that was her sovereign domain, his father was in the living room negotiating with the fire, trying to coax it into a roaring blaze – from the sounds of it, he was losing – and little Elmer was tracking melting snow across the house as he went in search of...

"Grey Gran Puppy!" the child shrieked joyfully, throwing himself at the ancient, wizened old man that had just rounded the corner of the hallway.

"Grey Gran Puppy?" DG murmured with the slightest twitch of her lip.

"Give me a break, DG, I was five," the cop told her absently, his eyes fixed on the old gentleman.

"You sure?" she asked doubtfully, "You look a bit small for five."

"I was," he stated, unable to stop himself from taking an instinctive step forward as the frail seeming senior stooped to heft the tiny child into the air, and staggered slightly under his weight. "I remember this Christmas: we had a record snowfall to play in, I got a sheriff's badge and a toy gun from Santa, and Grey Gran Puppy..." he swallowed hard as the old man tucked his childhood self under his arm and started shuffling over to the dinner table, "Grey Gran Puppy didn't make the next one."

DG was staring at him when he looked down, her big blue eyes intent and searching, the policeman shifted uneasily. She could be so damned acute sometimes. "_He wore starched white shirts, buttoned at the neck_," she sang softly, "_and he'd sit in the shade and watch the chickens peck..._"

"_His teeth were gone, but what the heck,_" Gulch joined in quietly, "_I thought that he walked on water_. Yeah," he added slowly, "pretty much."

"We can stay and watch for a bit," the youngest princess told him, "Mama Gulch looks so young."

"Yeah, well, she wouldn't have been much older than you at the time," the cop murmured back.

After a time the scene faded to be replaced by a new one, the house looked almost identically, Mama Gulch was still bustling about the kitchen, but here and there was the slightest indications of the passage of time: new lines in Mrs. Gulch's face, family and school photos depicting a growing Elmer Gulch, small roundish hole in the doorframe...

"M-mother!" the voice of a young man shouted from the front of the house, "You m-mind g-giving us a l-little help here?"

"Oh honestly," the farmwife huffed, with a quick check on her stove before making her way out of the kitchen, "I thought you boys were going to be out ice fishing until dinner."

"We were," her husband informed her dryly, "only DG decided to play a game called fun with power tools."

"Elmer!" his mother gasped as she entered the foyer, "You're dripping all over the floor!"

"A-am I? Oh g-good, m-means I'm th-thawing o-out."

"Blankets would be nice," added Papa Gulch.

The invisible witnesses surveyed the scene from their past with nostalgic eyes. Young Elmer Gulch was soaked to the skin and absolutely freezing, his teeth chattering to the point that it was becoming exceedingly difficult to talk. Papa Gulch was decidedly underdressed for the weather, having decided to discard his wet articles of clothing until he was clad only in a slightly damp pair of jeans and some sturdy winter boots, and he was carrying a somewhat soggy little DG, wrapped in a ratty jacket that was the only completely dry piece of clothing between them.

"Didn't you end up catching pneumonia?" the older, theoretically wiser DG asked as she watched the younger Gulch all but propose to the fireplace for being so wonderful as to have a blazing fire in it.

"Yeah."

"Got an extended Christmas vacation because of it, too, didn't you?" she added as Mama Gulch dumped a load of blankets over her son's head.

"Yeah," Gulch replied dryly, "Two weeks of hacking my lungs up. Fun."

"Good times," the slipper princess said happily as her younger self burrowed under the blankets in search of warm-warm, young Elmer yelped at the intrusion of icy toes while Mrs. Gulch returned from the kitchen bearing hot chocolate.

"...Yes, they were."

This scene, too, faded in time, to be followed by others, each of them different yet in so many ways the same. DG quite nobly refrained from pointing out that he used to enjoy Christmas quite well and the cop secretly admitted it was true. Then the scene shifted entirely, even the house fading away to reveal...

"You sure you're alright with covering Christmas, too?" the police chief asked in a worried tone. The police station had been decorated in a rather enthusiastic but bizarre festive style, much like a literal explosion of green, red and white. One desk in particular looked like it had been hit with a Christmas tree, ornaments and garland included.

"Sure I'm sure," said the occupant of the aforementioned desk, "Now get going before your wife and kids decide to start without you, I've got it covered."

"There's no need to stay at the station all day..."

"Not planning to," Elmer Gulch informed the chief as he shoved him towards the door, "I'm just going to finish up some paperwork, run a few patrols and head home. I'll keep the radio on me in case anyone has an emergency and we're all good to go."

"You know, Elmer, my offer is still valid," the chief said, shrugging into his jacket, "if you change your mind, feel free to come over, we're liable to be up late so no need to worry..."

"Chief," the younger policeman broke in flatly, "you have half of Kansas camping out in your spare bedroom, I'll pass. Have yourself a Merry Christmas, now out!" he ordered, politely but firmly closing the door on his superior.

"Yeah, but you don't have a soul staying in yours," the older man muttered unhappily to the closed door before sadly shaking his head and turning towards his vehicle.

If this fact was bothering the younger Elmer, however, he didn't show it as he hummed Christmas tunes all through doing his paperwork, his steps were fairly light when he strode out to the cruiser he was still sharing with another cop ever since his had had an unfortunate run-in with a tractor. Snow crunched beneath the tires as the vehicle pulled away and the two observers found themselves conveniently seated in the backseat for the ride.

"Have I ever told you," DG mentioned to the present Gulch as his younger counterpart pulled up on the side of the highway and looked intently at his watch, "that you are just a little bit evil?"

"Who me?" Office Gulch uttered in mock astonishment as his former self counted down three, two, one...

There was a roar of an engine and a teenaged DG flew past on her motorcycle, bundled up almost beyond recognition against the cold. Past Gulch grinned, flicked on his siren and started whistling 'Silver Bells'.

"I don't believe it!" the teen DG shrieked as she pulled over a few minutes later, "It's Christmas for pity's sake! What are you Scrooge? Have a heart!"

"And I can't believe you are driving around on the doom machine in the middle of winter," the cop replied calmly, "It's freezing out."

"Popsicle decided to do some maintenance on the truck without warning me, it's useless until the parts come in after Christmas," she explained.

"Well if you are going to do the shopping on your bike, couldn't you at least balance your bags better than this?" the policeman asked, rearranging the bags draped carelessly over the seat, "Geez DG, have a little sense."

"I was doing just fine, thank you very much, I don't see...YOU'RE ACTUALLY WRITING ME A TICKET!" the teen exploded, "Whatever happened to the holiday spirit? Peace on Earth and good will to men?"

"Doesn't really have an effect on the law: speeding at Christmas is still speeding," the younger Gulch told her evenly, handing over the ticket, "Happy Holidays, Ma'am."

"Don't you go hiding behind police protocol, you heartless miser! You...you...you GRINCH!" young DG howled after the cop as he strolled back to the cruiser, "I bet no one else at the station would have given me a ticket for...for..." she broke off suddenly as she inspected the ticket more carefully.

"_Merry Christmas, Brat_," the grown DG quoted from her seat in the back of the cruiser, _the roads are icy, SLOW DOWN._ I have to admit," she added, "that was impressive how you snuck those homemade goodies into the grocery bags, if I didn't know you'd done it I'd have never seen you do it."

"Merry Christmas Menace!" her younger self yelled suddenly, cracking the policeman's poker face, causing him to burst out laughing as he slid into the driver's seat. The teen, meanwhile, remounted her bike and took off at a more sedate pace.

"Just out of curiosity," the Commander of the Guard inquired, "how long did it take for you to start speeding again?"

"Actually," the youngest princess stated primly, "I behaved myself all the way home, in fact, I went _below_ speed limit."

"Christmas miracles," Gulch uttered in awed tones, "they do exist."

DG made a face, but whatever she might have said was forgotten when she saw the younger Gulch's next destination. The county graveyard was a peaceful place, well maintained and made beautiful by the earnest work of generations of local residents. Coming to a stop in the closest parking spot, Gulch's past self got out to grab a few bundles out of the trunk while his present self took a moment to decide that anything he might have said or done on this particular trip was innocuous enough to allow DG to drag him out of the car in pursuit. By the time they caught up, previous Gulch had already brushed the snow away from the headstones and set up two little Christmas wreaths, one on each grave.

"Merry Christmas mother, father," he said conversationally as he sat down between the graves, "long time no see. Thought you'd liked to know that I'm doing alright. Tried to get a girlfriend at long last – don't get your hopes up mom, it did not turn out too well. Don't worry, though, DG is keeping herself busy raining down vengeance on my behalf. There's a bet going on at the station as to whether the brat will slip up and do something I'll have to arrest her for, or if we'll be carting Roxanne off in a straight jacket first. Yes, dad, I already put some money down on DG on your behalf, and, yes, mother, I will see to it that DG is brought up short before she crosses the line. I'm pretty sure she knows full well how to tread the line without getting in trouble – it's her specialty after all – but she does occasionally get carried away. Right, father, understatement of the year, I know. Other than that, I don't know what else to tell you, you know how little things change around here. Farmer Spencer..."

"You know," whispered DG, "you seem to be handling all this pretty well, so I don't get why..." she trailed off as the scene shifted once more.

They were back in the police station, but it was a very different Christmas. Someone had made a half-hearted attempt to decorate the room, the result was generic, like an uninspired store front, and had been utterly obliterated anytime it came anywhere near Officer Gulch's desk. Bits of tape and coloured paper were all that remained of would-be cheerful decorations that had been ripped ruthlessly apart and stuffed in the trash. The cop himself was sitting in an unquiet silence, scribbling away at a stack of paperwork with heavy, angry strokes, while across the room the rest of the local police force watched him warily.

"You," DG pronounced, not mincing matters, "look like shit."

Gulch couldn't argue with her. He hadn't realized it at the time – mostly because he hadn't been in any sort of mindset that would have cared – but his appearance was closer to that vapour crazed Longcoat that had stabbed him not so long ago than it was to an upstanding member of the community. The policeman seated at the desk showed signs of recent significant weight loss, he had dark circles under his eyes, a fairly active shoulder tic, and an air of menacing grief; in all honesty, had Officer Gulch encountered the younger cop on the street he'd probably have arrested himself just on risk factor. It was not surprising, really, he remembered this Christmas with that hideous clarity that the worst times in one's life sometimes acquire. DG had disappeared just over three months previously, the cop had been forced to accept that she was in all likelihood dead, but he had not yet stopped going out looking for her every time his shoulders twitched. Everyone was keeping a watchful eye on the grieving policeman, and a frightened one ever since Gulch had nearly torn young Tim Beckley limb for limb for stealing DG's motorbike. James Bentley still had a splint on his arm from the damage he'd taken trying to help hold his fellow officer back.

"Do you really think it's a good idea to let him cover Christmas by himself?" James was whispering urgently to the chief.

"I don't like it either," their superior muttered back, "but he'll do better with something to do, if you want to try and stay with him it's up to you."

Bentley grimaced. "I've already had to replace all my truck tires and a couple of tail lights, the man's a bit emphatic about being left alone, I just don't think he should be is all."

"Yeah, well, Gulches are stubborn like that when they want something," the chief grumbled, "Never realized how big a hand DG had in keeping him stable when his parents died, I haven't seen him this volatile since he was a little kid."

"I think him blames himself somehow," Nancy said tremulously, "either for not saving her or for not being able to find her."

"I think," DG uttered in the smallest voice he'd ever heard her use, "I owe you an apology."

"Not your fault," Gulch murmured back, "Leastwise don't think it is, you didn't _jump_ into that tornado did you?"

The youngest princess gave an alarmingly watery chuckle. "Actually, Momster and Popsicle threw me in," she informed him as they watched the rest of cops file reluctantly out of the room.

"Well that's something that's bound to give you a moment's doubt regarding their parental affection," the policeman returned lightly as he watched his former self finish wading through the paperwork before moving on to clean the station. The Christmas decorations were taking a beating. "What were you doing around Christmas the year you disappeared anyway?" he asked after a moment as the younger Gulch's shoulders twitched again.

"Not entirely sure," DG reflected, "I lost track of the days for a while, we were having a lot of trouble with the Longcoats in those first few months after the witch's defeat."

"Figures."

They followed him out once more to the graveyard where he moved silently to brush the snow from the tombstones with quiet, contained motions. He did not speak as he had in the past, only laid the wreaths carefully down and stood there staring at the graves, his shoulders slumping as the anger drained out of him. Turning, he made his way slowly back to the cruiser, sliding behind the wheel and staring blankly out the windshield for a long, long time before he finally put the vehicle in gear and drove away. Time skipped ahead a little and the two O.Z. royals found themselves watching as the cop trudged wearily up the steps of a house that had taken heavy damage not so long ago, his feet breaking a new path in the fallen snow.

"You know what," Gulch said hastily, as his past self hung a third wreath on the door, "I think we've seen enough, learned what we were here to learn, let's move on shall we?"

But DG was already in motion, retracing his younger self's steps up the porch stairs so the she could read the speeding ticket he was currently pinning to the wreath. _Merry Christmas, brat._

"Gah!" Officer Gulch opined as he was hit by a flying princess hug attack that he really should have been expecting. Uncomfortable credence was lent to his This is Actually Happening theory as he definitely felt the steps as he bounced over them in their headlong tumble into the snow. Cold snow. "Ow," he informed her.

From somewhere nearby came the sounds of snow muted footsteps. "I take it DG felt that a hug was in order," a new voice commented.

"She's a hugger," confirmed the policeman, "and apparently very much related to her sister," he added with a pained groan, "The nutcracker may be festive but..."

"Sorry, sorry!" the youngest princess cried, leaping to her feet.

"Just like old times," Gulch grunted, accepting the Tin Man's hand up, "Is the absence of Mr. Revolver another Christmas miracle or do I make the huggable list?"

Cain quirked an eyebrow.

"The list of people allowed to hug DG without getting shot," the cop explained, "It's a small and exclusive list, I can only think of half a dozen people who might be on it."

The Tin Man snorted and glanced around.

"Pay no attention to the man behind the curtain," Officer Gulch muttered as Cain's thoughtful gaze fell upon the younger Gulch, where he was readjusting the straps on the tarps protecting the exposed areas of the old farmhouse from the elements.

"We kind of broke him a little," DG commented regretfully.

"He's good at putting the pieces back together, he just missed a couple is all," the Tin Man rumbled reassuringly.

"We'll just have to help him find the rest..."

"You know, I'm standing right here," grouched the cop.

"...Hand off?" asked the youngest princess.

"Hand off," agreed Cain.

"What?" demanded Gulch.

"He's the Ghost of Christmas Present," DG informed him cheerfully.

"Oh you've got to be kidding me..."

...

The sound of a slamming door cut him off mid sentence and the cop was no longer standing in the snow outside the old Gale place but instead amidst the scene he'd left behind in the palace of Central City.

"What just happened?" the crown princess asked as she stared at the door in bemusement.

"Gulch glitched," opined Glitch, "Total meltdown."

"No," Raw corrected with a shake of his head, "DG hit wound. Old wound, healed in haste, buried deep, not forgotten."

"He yelled at us," Azkadellia whispered, aghast, "and not just in there's-an-armed-madman-after-us-and-you-just-chained-me-to-the-wall exasperation, but actually _yelled_ at us."

"Anytime you'd like to kick my a-butt, I'd be agreeable," Gulch commented to the Tin Man standing beside him.

"Why bother? You do a far better job of punishing yourself," Wyatt de Sade Cain murmured back, "Gulch this may have escaped your notice, but you _are_ human."

"DG, what did you _do_ to him?" Az accused, distracting Gulch from his astonishment.

"Me? I..."

"She died," the Tin Man beside her replied with far too much understanding for Gulch's comfort.

The room stilled then...

"Ah no," DG sighed, "I should have realized but he always seems so steady on his feet that I forget, Christmas is hard on people without family and he never stops to give himself a thought...dammit," she scowled suddenly at Cain, "all you men and your manly man stuff, would it hurt you to show just a little vulnerability every once in a while?"

"Probably," the unseen lawmen answered without hesitation.

The Tin Man in the scene, however, wisely refrained from comment, merely smiling benignly while his wife gave off glaring in order to plan with her sister how to deal with the problem Gulch. A little worrying that, but before the policeman could sneak forward to learn what Nemesis may have in store for him the scene melted away...

...or rather, it shifted. And not as far as Gulch would have liked. The door had not latched when the cop had slammed it, instead it had recoiled just enough to leave an absolutely irresistible gap for the four men crouched rather comically outside, listening eagerly. Azkadellia had chosen to nickname her protection detail after the seven dwarves in Snow White and had a habit, when in a fit of pique, of using these nicknames. Her husband, on the other hand, thought the title Peanut Gallery a bit more fitting, and if their loyalty weren't unquestionable he probably wouldn't have put up with this sort of thing. Maybe.

"What's going on now?" the one Az had designated Happy hissed through the doorway.

"Otherside celebration is still a go but Old Gulchy is apparently having some kind of trauma," Bashful, the only one on duty, whispered back from just inside the room.

"Well he could stop doing that already," Doc muttered, "he's ruining the holidays."

"Ya ain't never heard o' this Chriss-mass afore today," the dour Grumpy pointed out.

"Yeah, but they sound like fun," replied the irrepressible Dawkins, "just think of the possibilities this mistletoe represents."

The Commander of the Guard sighed in resignation, the man he'd promoted to guard commander was undoubtedly going to get someone shot – and was probably going to enjoy himself immensely doing it.

The scene shifted again. Dellia was sitting on the end of their bed, cuddling Kansas on her lap and casting worried glances at the door to the adjoining room. Picking up on her concern, the little mobat tugged lightly on her hair to get her attention and made a few signs of inquiry.

"No, not right now," the eldest princess murmured sadly, "he's feeling a bit wounded at the moment and needs some time to himself."

Chirping insistently, Kansas crawled out Azkadellia's lap, climbed the bedpost and flung himself across the room towards the dresser. He was getting rather good at gliding, the cop thought with pride as the little mobat landed with only a minor crash amongst the princess' toiletries. Then he picked up a comb to use as a makeshift crutch and hobbled across the dresser before letting out another chirp.

Dellia laughed quietly as she glided forward to scoop up the little mobat. "No, he's not injured," she reassured him, "just a little heart broke and too oblivious to realize it. He'll be okay," she said, looking wistfully at the door again, "I hope."

"Seriously Cain, anytime you want to shoot me is fine by me," Gulch offered unhappily.

The Tin Man sighed. "You are missing the point."

The cop blinked at him uncomprehendingly.

"And she says _I'm_ stubborn," Wyatt sometimes-there's-only-one-way-to-solve-a-problem Cain huffed in exasperation. Then he hit'im.

...

"Ow," Gulch complained as he sat up rubbing his chin, "I know I asked you to but did you have to...Cain?" the cop called as he glanced around in puzzlement. The Tin Man was nowhere to be seen, nor, for that matter, was the palace or, indeed, anything. Wherever he was now, it was pitch black and foggy, he could hardly see the hand in front of his face and the other one banged painfully against cold hard stone as he groped about in the darkness. "Well crap," the policeman opined as he felt along the edges of the stone. He was pretty sure he knew what that was...

"Verily I declare unto your royal self," a voice spake solemnly from the gloom, "that if thou doth not take scrupulous heed and carefully mind the concerned warnings of thy numerous fellow beings, if thou doth not change thine erroneous conduct and dutifully mend thine oblivious cognition, then thou shalt find that-"

"Fastidium?" Officer Gulch uttered in surprise.

"The noble corporeal being thou recognize as Lord Fastidium is overshadowed in this instance by the immeasurable gravity and solemnity that is the haunting spirit of thine Otherside ritual's prospective manifestation. If Your Royal Highness had not so precipitously interrupted, he would have diligently performed his sombre duty of bestowing upon your lordship the knowledge of-"

"You do realize that the Ghost of Christmas Future is supposed to be silent don't you?" the cop interrupted informatively.

Lightening split the sky, allowing the policeman to catch sight of Lord I-never-stop-speaking Fastidium dressed like a gothic dandy, complete with cloak, and glaring balefully at him. "If it suits your royal pleasure better," the lord droned acidly, "I shall restrict mine self to the mere undertaking of drawing to Your Royal Highness' attention the stone that hath been inscribed Offi-"

"OH NO YOU DON'T!" shrieked Azkadellia, coming out nowhere to hit the pompous noble with a rather impressive running tackle. Fastidium yelped in surprise and pain as he was bowled over backwards into the aforementioned tombstone. "He is not allowed to die! I won't let him! And anyone who tries to make him is going to have to deal with me and. You. Don't. Want. To. Deal. With. Me," she growled as she shook the lord by the lapels of his jacket.

"Y-your Highness," sputtered the besieged lord, "I b-beseech you t-to un-n-n-hand mine h-humble self and-d-d allow m-me to c-carry out the d-d-dispatch of mine v-vital c-commission. I m-meant n-no th-threat upon the p-person of th-thine n-noble husband, o-only to r-remind him of w-what he m-must n-needs be c-cognisant of b-but is otherw-wise psychologically inh-hibited from r-realizing: th-that the s-solitude he d-dreads need n-not manifest, in-indeed it _cannot_ do th-thusly as it w-will not b-be allowed."

Officer Gulch stared at the noble in utter shock and blinked. _Had he just made sense?_ Christmas miracle three...

"_What_?" hissed Az, apparently too upset to try and unravel the meaning of Fastidium's speech.

"What he is trying to say," the cop translated as he gently pried his wife's fingers away from the lord's throat, "in quite so many words and then some, is that I am an oblivious idiot, unconsciously stuck in the past despite obvious details of the present."

"You are _not_ an idiot," the eldest princess stated fiercely. Gulch's lip twitched at the thought that she'd made no objection to _oblivious_. He paid no mind, though, he was feeling decidedly light. In fact, he was fairly certain he saw something impish moving with the shadows, there was the faintest whiff of popcorn accompanying a laughing breeze; it would probably go nicely with spirits...

_Click._

Turning in the direction of the sound, the cop opened his eyes to discover that he was back on The Couch again and his wife had decided to join him in exile. As her hand slid away from the handcuff now attaching his right wrist to the bedpost, Gulch found himself distracted from what he'd been intending to say first by a rather fascinating discovery.

Swallowing hard so as not to drool, the policeman asked with significant interest, "What are you wearing?"

"DG says it is a Mrs. Claus outfit."

"Oh," he said huskily, "I never realized her first name was Victoria."

"It's supposed to be a Christmas present," Azkadellia continued, looking at him searchingly, "You don't mind?"

"Don't see how I possibly could."

"Deeg told me Christmas hard for people without family," Dellia murmured as she wrapped her arms around him.

"Well it's a good thing I have lots of family then," Gulch replied as he wrapped his arm around her in turn, "Sorry about what said early, dear, I was being an-"

She placed a finger against his lips, silencing him. "Merry Christmas, silly man," his wife whispered as she leaned forward.

He agreed wholeheartedly.


End file.
